tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7964428467047765762024-03-12T21:31:41.722-07:00Brent Danley Jones, WriterI am a word-smith of fictions, poems, opinions, and other worlds. BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-20857157618327915922015-09-04T22:12:00.000-07:002015-09-04T22:12:19.419-07:00ESSAY EDITORIAL: Against Homosexual Marriage Because of the Bible? Most Likely the Bible is Already Against YouIn whichever (edited version) of the bible you choose to read, you may come across chapters in Leviticus, backed by passages in Roman as updated in the new testament, that say homosexual relations are an abomination:<br /><br />
Leviticus 18:22<br />
"'Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable"<br />
Leviticus 20:13<br />
"'If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They are to be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.<br /><br />
And, if you take the word of the bible as literal and choose this as your own view, you can have that as a belief. So unconfessed sins of homosexual relations condemn those who practice them.<br />
What I do not believe you can do, however, is only take *some* verses in the bible as written truths without taking ALL verses in the bible as truth. This means many people have unconfessed sins, and just about 98% of the world is going to hell unless they confess, and those seem like some huge sinful numbers over issues that might not be seen as so important, even by Christians who read the bible today. I think homosexuality is one such position that has changed in modern times, along with a few other examples I'll introduce.<br />
The bible was a book written 2,000 years ago to give a base reference for the Catholic/Christian religions gaining popularity at the time, and reflects values and belief of that time, some 2,000 years ago.<br />
So, if you choose to believe the word of good as written in terms of same-sex relations, you cannot choose then to ignore other verses in the bible, and must believe them in inherent truths as well, right? And we must specifically confess for sins made, lest they hang about our souls as weights that keep us from heaven? In modern society, we could spend a whole afternoon confessing and most likely still be missing a few, as they are written.<br />
And we must, if we take those passages from Leviticus condemning homosexuality as true, take every verse of the bible as equally true. Otherwise, that means you could just choose what parts to believe and what parts to deny. That doesn't seem correct or fair, to interpret and modernize some, while still holding the text of others as infallible.<br />
Therefore...<br /><br />
No more seafood, as the same chapter also declares this "an abomination",<br />
Leviticus 9:10, "All that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you."<br /><br />
Slavery is okay, and people are possession to be bought, sold, inherited, as long as they are not your Israelian relatives. Again, also found within Leviticus.<br />
Leviticus 25:44-46, "You may purchase male or female slaves from among the foreigners who live among you. You may also purchase the children of such resident foreigners, including those who have been born in your land. You may treat them as your property, passing them on to your children as a permanent inheritance. You may treat your slaves like this, but the people of Israel, your relatives, must never be treated this way."<br />
Ephesians 6:5 "Slaves, obey your earthly masters with deep respect and fear. Serve them sincerely as you would serve Christ."<br />
Also in Exodus, 21:7 there is reference to slavery being just fine.<br />
<br />Death by stoning for not listening to your parents by the council of elders is permitted (are you seeing where some of these ideas held at the time are not as acceptable now?)<br />
Deuteronomy 21:18-21, "If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, which will not obey the voice of his father, or the voice of his mother, and that, when they have chastened him, will not hearken unto them: Then shall his father and his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; And they shall say unto the elders of his city, This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton, and a drunkard. And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die."<br />
Deuteronomy 22: 20-21, "But if this thing be true, and the tokens of virginity be not found for the damsel: Then they shall bring out the damsel to the door of her father's house, and the men of her city shall stone her with stones that she die: because she hath wrought folly in Israel, to play the whore in her father's house: so shalt thou put evil away from among you."<br />
Exodus 35:2, if you have a busy week and work all the days in that week, you will be put to death, "For six days, work is to be done, but the seventh day shall be your holy day, a day of sabbath rest to the LORD. Whoever does any work on it is to be put to death."<br /><br />
Refusal to accept anyone with handicaps or disability into chuch (I trust you let blind people into church now if they asked admittance, right, without praying for forgiveness for doing so?)<br />
Leviticus 21:17-23 "Whosoever … hath any blemish, let him not approach to offer the bread of his God. For whatsoever man he be that hath a blemish, he shall not approach: a blind man, or a lame, or he that hath a flat nose, or any thing superfluous, Or a man that is brokenfooted, or brokenhanded, Or crookbackt, or a dwarf, or that hath a blemish in his eye, or be scurvy, or scabbed, or hath his stones broken … He shall not go in unto the vail, nor come nigh unto the altar, because he hath a blemish; that he profane not my sanctuaries."<br /><br />
No playing football, they are all sinners.<br />
Leviticus 11:8, "You must not eat their [pig] meat or touch their carcasses [that's the football]; they are unclean for you."<br /><br />
No women in positions of power, (you do believe in equality for men and women now, don't you? But not for homosexuals, based on the same scripture that says not even women deserve respect)<br />
Timothy 2:11 "I permit no woman to teach or have authority over men; she is to keep silent."<br />
In the King James version, being the most commonly read, they have *changed the passage to reflect the change in times* though it is still dicriminatory, to "Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection."<br /><br />
If you disobey god, you will eat your babies, (Are you hopefully seeing some things in the bible cannot be taken so literally?)<br />
Leviticus 26:27-30, "If in spite of this you still do not listen to me but continue to be hostile toward me, 28 then in my anger I will be hostile toward you, and I myself will punish you for your sins seven times over. 29 You will eat the flesh of your sons and the flesh of your daughters."<br /><br />
And last, again from Leviticus, we must extend love to all, (strange to find this passage in so much hate)<br />
Leviticus 19: 17-18, "Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart: thou shalt in any wise rebuke [reason with] thy neighbor, and not suffer sin upon him. Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself: I am the Lord."<br /><br />
I can assume your position is that YOU can love them, but god will judge them. In this case, hardly anyone is getting into heaven, and you'll have millions of good people breaking ancient rules of the bible not being let through the gates of heaven, punished for rules most don't follow because it is 2,000 years later, and we know eating seafood is not an abomination, along with many other observed changes from growing together as a people that will however go unconfessed, and stain our eternal souls.<br /><br />
Unfortunately, I don't think any of this will change your positions. This is part of my issue with religion, the world and the people in it are changing ideas and finding ways of incorporating other beliefs from other societies that religious texts can't take account for. Therefore, you can't rely on only a religious text to purport beliefs, otherwise we'd have no sin for owning slaves but have sin for playing football with the family. At some point--and it took far too long--we realized slavery is unjust and immoral, and touching leather doesn't make one unclean. Don't you think so? Or do you still agree with the bible? Changes of beliefs progressed our societies and expanded our capacity for love--something god should have wanted, as his base message has been one of love. As with slavery and other positions now immoral or not relevant in current times, a person's sexuality should not be considered an abomination, and instead we should find a new capacity for love. And no, there is no slippery slope into bestiality, as that practice was around before god was here and is still happening now, but no one is coming forward to claim tax benefits and the right to marriage with their sheep, and there would be no point in doing so--nor would it affect the lives of anyone if someone did go around saying "I married my sheep" because he would be judged in current times as being crazy. I, however, don't think two humans loving each other is crazy. It infringes on the dignity of *people* to dictate from an outdated religious text what rights can be granted to them by the state. God didn't create marriage, marriage existed well before Jesus and the bible became well known, the bible just gave it certain rules. American government is founded on ideals of freedom, including freedom religion. Making people conform to a chosen religion is to take away that freedom, because it is forcing the religious ideals of one community to another that does not wish to have that set of beliefs. And the state protects the right of those people outside of religious qualms. If a person wants to disagree with their choices as an individual, that is another conversation--they are entitled to their opinion and belief. The summary of my points is there is no right to discriminate against the LGBTQ community through the state, nor is their legitimate ground to discriminate via religion, or that person would need to take all parts of the bible as written truths, being unable to choose which parts of holy scriptures they choose to believe and not believe.<br /><br />
You can disagree with this, that's fine. I'm just hoping you can at least see this way of thinking from a less biased perspective and respect the choices of other people, extending a godly love, and not damn them to an abomination based solely on scripture.<br /><br />
I ask that you look into your heart, your idea of love, look past the scriptures, and find a place for those with ideas differing from your own. Ask yourself, not the bible, then see how their ideas affect your own and whether it is worth continuing to discriminate against them as less than regular people. Marriage is joining two souls in a unity of love. I wouldn't want to believe hell awaits for finding love in this world.BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-83289400445315458042015-06-02T03:11:00.003-07:002015-06-02T03:15:16.964-07:00Cause For Alarm<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">[[This is a poem for the </span><i style="font-size: 16px;">Lit Bulb</i><b style="font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"> </b><span style="font-size: 16px;">programme. The bulb has been lit!]] </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">( For more on Lit Bulb and this series theme of "Together", <a href="http://litbulbfestival.com/2015-festival-programme">http://litbulbfestival.com/2015-festival-programme</a>/ )</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><b><span style="font-size: large;">Cause For Alarm</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">by Brent Danley Jones</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There is a fatty fat bumblebee on the
window sill<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Next to the flowers and infront of the
trees<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Under the shutter brought in with the
breeze<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">After adventuring a thousand miles<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He comes to stop and rest a while<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The eve grows young as the days turns old<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He must arrive home before onsets the
cold<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Baby spots him first, lets out a squeal<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A tasty morsel sized snack before next
meal<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Little Sarah notes next, gives off a
shout<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Letting all know a bumblebee is about<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Little Danny sees him now without fear<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He runs for his weapons, enemy is near<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Momma has not a clue what to do<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">She flees the room in panic, nothing new<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Daddy's now got his newspaper ready<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He arches the media back, holds steady<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There is a fatty fat bumblebee on the
window sill<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So much trouble by one bee was bred<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He starts up and his motor and away he
fled</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-72651195109981813152015-04-20T19:57:00.004-07:002015-04-20T19:57:47.585-07:00To Lead<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>by Brent Danley Jones</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> One clean shot sent spiraling through
the right eye dropped another of the shambling terrors we once called human.
Hear the rattling wheeze, on instinct turn right, a swing successfully severs
the spinal column between the sixth and seventh vertebrae just at the base of
the neck, producing a <i>ring </i>and <i>chuck</i> sound felt down the sharpened
steel, snapping the imitated life out of another abomination. A quick glance to
the left revealed Ray, a baker by trade, experiencing difficulty disposing of
his dreadful foe as a state of panic crept into his addled mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <i>Poor guy</i>. <i>And it’s only one.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Accuracy
decreased as the rate went up, with death dripping nearer. The ghoulish figure
advanced, outlined in the dim glow of a distant fire, pressing forward unfazed
by the shots passing through its body, as shrapnel of bone and flesh ricocheted
away. To fear is to be human, and Ray found himself being bared down upon by
something without fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Not
wanting more precious ammo to be cast without reason backing the bullet, the
sights on my old hunting rifle even themselves with the ear and loose one shot
through the left and out the right. A low, bellowing moan let out by the
falling foe brings a queer relief as another beast slips back into death. All
grew still now, silence falling like the comfort of a familiar quilt around us.
Ray’s eyes were still as wide as exhaustion would let them go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> They
always think they’re ready.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> A
quick kick gets us through the door of a neighboring building as the smell of
mildew on linen floods to greet us. A clothing store, ‘Trinities’. Gathering inside,
we throw on the gas lamp, reload and recoup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> A
number of frumpy sweaters and skimpy dresses still cling to hangars, some
barely holding on, each with a pricetag. Assumed value. Thirty-five dollars for
the loose fitting blue one with the big red pockets. It kind of takes you back.
A time when paper could be traded for goods, and metal discs could buy food. I
rip the jumper from the hooks and stuff it in my tuckerbag over a few remaining
biscuits, maybe to use later. Funny. This used to be called “stealing” and now
it’s just “living”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I
hated resorting to guns, ammo’s not easy to make. Machetes don’t run out of
bullets, but putting a rifle on rock ‘n’ roll beats dying. Shoulda took the semi-auto
instead of Ray, but he’s lacking in cool hands, my two to his zero. Also
shoulda known we’d hit a swarm, the place looks untouched for a reason: it’s
crawling with death. Running some quick mental math says we got about seven or
eight minutes until anything in earshot drags itself to our position. Shame.
Would like to have reset my sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Ray’s
still out of breath and we don’t bother with words. He knows the scolding
that’s waiting there for him. Slumped down beneath an old world calendar, with
some picture of a baby goat on a stump, he lets his head hang, not wanting to
make eye contact—or any kind of contact. That’s good. Part of you needs to die
for the rest to live sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> A
strange thing that at a time like this previous memories would work their way
back in, sending a dull spark to the part of nostalgia we just don’t talk about
no more. Calendar on the wall says April 10<sup>th</sup>. It’s my birthday. As
I shove unfired shells into the chamber of my mechanical best friend, my pace
with the shells slows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The
emotion numbing armor lifts for but a moment in thought—living life like this
is just like waiting to die, right? What will happen if we manage to fend off
the oncoming onslaught and get back to Base? We will enjoy another week, maybe
two, of paranoid fear from this ghastly oppression. Slowly we steep into
insanity, behind our little walls within the confines of Base until the order
trickles down the chain for me to take to the streets again, hoping a sharp
blade and hot lead is enough to drown out the sound of my own delusions and
follow the mission. Repeat the same cycle. Again. Vicious in its repetition.
Salvation seems steeped in death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Scattered
notions buzz like corpse flies, a sickly contamination spreads through my mind.
It’s not the first time—but reality jerks me back, out of the soul, stained salvation,
and death, back into 'Trinities' clothing boutique, where a familiar sound
grows louder than the offensively colored clothing. I hear tears. I hear the
human heart beating, and scared. I spin my head around fast and see a baker
named Ray, his kicked-dog face buried in a fuzzy magenta frock grabbed off the
counter. I stare at this blatant example of emotion and see a fear so different
from mine. Ray's little mishap may be the closest in life he’s ever felt to
death, something with no greater thought than fear needed to justify terror.
Ray is human. Have I lost my fear? Death of dying in living life, all is in the
mind, but the breathing and sputtering mass of man in front of me now is real,
present, and washing the blue from his eyes. His senses are still acute, like
all survivors, and note he’s being watched. Ray lifts his sunken face from its
rosy resting place with the look of a lost child. I realize what I am meant to
do. I stare back into frightened Ray's blue eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “Shut
the hell up, stand up, move out. Shoot like that again and I’ll shoot you,
you’re not worth the ammo you’re wasting. Want to live? Shoot straight, once,
and in the head. Got it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And he nods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Weapons in hand, we leave out the back
door.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-72228887584911993142015-04-15T17:49:00.000-07:002015-04-15T17:49:32.040-07:00The Facebook, It LivesNow that I've moved into trying to push my word-meshes under the nose and for the eyes of various digital and print publishers, there exists a page where my progress will be charted for ages to come.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/BrentDanleyJonesWriter">https://www.facebook.com/BrentDanleyJonesWriter</a><br />
<br />
From there, updates will be posted irregularly with good news.<br />
<br />
Salutations!BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-64052491909830735362015-03-24T21:51:00.003-07:002015-08-09T08:24:58.594-07:00Flash Fiction: Belfry, 2090<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt;">BELFRY, 2090</span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt;"><i>by Brent Danley Jones</i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">BRIDGES & BELFRIES</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">by
Brent Danley Jones<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "It
was a roll of the dice from the start, wasn't it?" said Erina, exasperated
and sucking in the cold air that stings your lungs when it’s from so high in
the sky. Her black body suit kept her core temperature regulated, though at
times she liked to feel the brisk chill again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Observant
as ever," Leif commented calmly as he coiled rope. His huge hands made it
look like thread. “You knew it from the start. Pay that good comes with a
catch. But now this is taking way too long, and I’m getting a twinge fearful
we’re in over our heads here. The bridges may shift before we get this oxy-tech
prototype back down.” He took the length of silk hemp and stored in back in the
many folds of his green and brown robes hiding metallic storage bins beneath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "
’Fraid’a heights?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> “Shut
your pretty mouth,” Leif snapped back in a low voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> “So,
that’s a ‘yes’.” Erina figured out by now he wasn’t the kind of merc that
relieved stress by having a laugh. What a bore. "I know, suck at gambling,
but I'm a sucker for taking chances. Besides, worst that happens is they catch
us, ban our gen-sequence, and erase our existence from the Sphere. No
biggie," she said wearing a relentless grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> She
disappeared below the bridge, slashed a bundled wirepack hidden beneath the
walkway connecting the next belfry, and rolled back on the stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> Ducking
in the doorway, Leif praised her in his head but not out loud; such deft,
seamless movement was a deadly effective feature for a merc, though she still
had a lot of punch in her as well. Leif could tell Erina was much more serious
about the job than her exterior would lead on. He felt an itch crawl up the old
rash on his back. The plan he had in mind might be more of a gamble than
lifting the prototype proved to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> After
a brief pause, they peered out and watched the glow from another storm sentinel
fade. The bluish tint in its crafted eye sockets grew grey and hollow as it
slumped, still standing upright.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "And
who even uses electric-based guard sentinels anymore? It’s outdated. And
tacky,” Erina teased the dead rock sentry. The duo huddled low and made their
way across. She could taste the precipitation in the clouds. Erina clawed open
the back of the sentinel, carefully cutting out scrap and pocketing it for
resale. Leif checked the dynamic prints. Still another 200 gridblocks to go.
Problem was, structures in the Netherlands developed a tendency for changing
shape on you. Organic architecture was received like the rapture among the
builders, but made breaking and entering even harder than before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> Leif
looked out from the terrace, scanning for the next tower in the spider web maze
of belfries and bridges. He focused on each peak, using the GUI in his eyes in
attempt to discern which had the televator they needed to descend. “No clear
sign, little lady. Gonna have to keep navigating and hope the bridges don’t
shift.” He signaled the all clear, and the two crouched, staying low, striding
across quietly so as not to be detected from below. He sighed when his eagle
eyes picked up the signature of another storm sentinel along the next causeway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> He
sighed, indicating his exhaustion outstripped his worry. "It just makes a
mess, it does. Has to be the twelfth one we're gonna knock out. Wires. I guess
no matter how secure the location, not everyone can afford the lodestones for
power. Even more so when they don't know what they really have."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Maybe
we're in the wrong business, and we should be harvesting the sparker gadgets of
these lugs. Sell 'em back to whoever still makes them." Erina executed
what was now a practiced routine of hooking off the bridge with her claws and
slashing a wired core beneath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> Safely
through the doorway of the belfry, Leif guessed there would be another six
towers before arriving at the center spire, lost in the web of bridges
suspended by towering peaks in the sky. Leif kept one eye on the schematics and
another looking for any avi-bots making overhead scans and a third inner eye on
Erina. She seemed to be enjoying herself, taking micro-pics of the stonework
and the masonry as they ascended endless stairs. Nevermind that chance of
getting erased being one capture away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Oh,
Leify, look'it that one! It looks like a star made out of butts."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Quit'cher
ass-hattery and keep your head in the game. We have to find which tower will
lead us closer to the Outgrounds before Stillion's other mechanical minions
hone in on our locale," Leif said in between light wheezes from non-stop
movement. "I still I can't see why we've gotten this far without better
resistance."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "You
may be underestimating what we can do now that we've... enhanced ourselves a
bit."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Yeah,
but I ain’t takin’ no chances. I’m not like you.” "Whatever you say, big boy! Ooh, look at that! Stained glass
griffons, almost as good as the original even when replicated." It was
quiet enough to hear the faint click of the micro-pic cam as Erina stored the
images. “I can’t believe the one that made this structure and got all those
scholarly prizes was also the same asshole trying to steal the air from the
sky.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> “Doesn’t
matter, someone else will pay us more to steal his shit than he would to
protect it. I don’t really care what they do with this oxy-whatever tech,” Leif
patted his side pocket, even though he knew the prototype wasn’t in there.
Erina had a fair share of new tech on her, and in her. He had since discerned
lie detection wasn’t one of the new additions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Right,
you know, sometimes I still wonder if we’re the good guys or the basen--"
BOOM. A thud through the wall knocked the whole of the belfry two inches to the
left, and a bloodbank automaton came in from the open air. A wall crawler left
unchecked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "I
knew this couldn't go well forever," Erina lost the playful charm in her
voice, sounding as old as Leif looked now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Hm.
Deal with it. You don’t have any blood in you now. It can’t do anything but
pierce your skin and suck out gel.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Ha,
guess you're right," she said, then jumped claws bared into the path of
the advancing bot, aiming for legs. "Now, get ready to knock out the
integrity board’s connection to the powercell, that should shut him up, and we
can strip it after. We really should’ve go into the scrap business!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> She
scratched one leg to open the machine at a weaker point, metal nails shredding
the gears of the bloodbank sentry, the sound echoing off the towers with a
sharp pitch, but not before a stony limb hit its mark right in her side,
leaving dozens of tiny needle cones piercing her armor and digging into her
flesh, sending her sprawling against the opposite wall of the belfry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> "Crap,
ahh… guh. This not having blood thing means this won't hurt as bad, huh
Leif?" She felt a bit faint, curious, since it could draw out the gel in
her skin, though that shouldn’t affect her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> She
turned to check if Leif was ready to move up and get inside the stone brute now
that his gearing was exposed. All she saw behind her was the end of a silk rope
dangling from an archway, blowing in the breeze.</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-32327152690055919472015-03-01T18:33:00.000-08:002016-06-27T17:59:06.017-07:00The Funniest Jokes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzEHUofV4ozgc173Y7LVx5j4rVxrDvrJ5k95GzwxLOlz26tii4fQLQsYRe6xaV68Oia-YHLQQEwjz8GxDt1-269qWffWbOZOgGKDiofUnCmyUVscacJU9KsdPgGnafEiK9mxSFY2Zt3M/s1600/morayeel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzEHUofV4ozgc173Y7LVx5j4rVxrDvrJ5k95GzwxLOlz26tii4fQLQsYRe6xaV68Oia-YHLQQEwjz8GxDt1-269qWffWbOZOgGKDiofUnCmyUVscacJU9KsdPgGnafEiK9mxSFY2Zt3M/s1600/morayeel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>Knee-slappers? More like face-slappers.<br />Please enjoy the immense pain derived from the tragedy of these amazing jokes.<br />These were gathered into an anthology of groaning from the darkest corners of the internet. Haha jokes , funny jokes , oh man , someone please throw cold water on me.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What does an angry jalapeno do?</b><br />
<i>Gets jalapeno face!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What do you call an alligator in a vest?</b><br />
<i>An investigator!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why does the little mermaid wear seashells?</b><br />
<i>Because A shells and B shells were too small!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What did the sea cucumber say to the mollusk? </b><br />
<i>With fronds like this who needs anemones?</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What do you call a fish with no eyes? </b><br />
<i>A fsh!</i><br />
<br />
<b>What do you call a dictionary of drugs?</b><i>Addictionary.<br /> </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>How do you know Indians were the first people in America?</b><br />
<i>Because they have reservations!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why wouldn't the shrimp share his treasure?</b><br />
<i>Because he was a little shellfish!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What did the Buddhist say to the hot dog vendor?</b><br />
<i>Make me one with everything!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What does a vegan zombie eat?</b><br />
<b> </b><i>Graaaaaaainss!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Where did George Washington keep his armies?</b><br />
<i>In his sleevies!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What was Beethoven's favorite fruit?</b><br />
<i>BA-NA-NAAAAAA</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What is a pony with a cough?</b><br />
<i>A little hoarse!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>A magician was driving down the road...</b><br />
<i>... then he turned into a driveway!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why is there no gambling in Africa?</b><br />
<i>Too many cheetahs!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why are all the frogs around here dead?</b><br />
<i>Because they keep croaking!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why did the cowboy adopt a wiener dog?</b><br />
<i>He wanted to get a long little doggy!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Have you heard about the corduroy pillow?</b><br />
<i>It's making headlines!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What do you call a psychic midget who escaped from prison?</b><br />
<i>A small medium at large!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!<br />
<br />
<div class="usertext-body may-blank-within md-container">
<div class="md">
A dog walks into a telegraph office, puts $1 on the counter and says:<br />
"Woof woof woof, woof woof, woof woof woof woof"<br />
<br />
The operator says to the dog "Its $1 for 10 words, shall I put another woof on there?"<br />
The dog then says "But that wouldn't make any sense!"<br />
<br />
+++<br />
<br />
Studies show that six out of seven dwarves aren't happy.<br />
The same study also said 6 of the 7 seven dwarves aren't grumpy either.<br />
<br />
<br />
+++<br />
<br />
<br />
TRY THIS<br />
<br />
How does it change many dyslexics to take a lightbulb?<br />
<br />
...Now try reading that sentence out loud. Getcha? Got me!<br />
<br />
+++<br />
<br />
<div class="usertext-body may-blank-within md-container">
<div class="md">
1 1 was a racehorse,<br />
1 2 was 1 2.<br />
When 1 1 1 1 race<br />
1 2 1 1 2.</div>
</div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<i> </i><br />
<br />
<b><i><br /></i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And finally...</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Steven Spielberg was discussing his new
project - an action docudrama about famous composers starring top movie stars. Sylvester
Stallone, Steven Segall, Bruce Willis, and Arnold Schwarzenegger were all present.
Spielberg strongly desired the box office 'oomph' of these superstars, so he was prepared
to allow them to select whatever composers they wished to portray, as long as they
were famous. </span></div>
<div align="left">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Well," started Stallone,
"I've always admired Mozart. I would love to play him." </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Chopin has always been my
favorite, and my image would improve if people saw me playing the piano," replied
Willis. "I'll play him." </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I've always been partial to
Strauss and his waltzes," said Segall. "I'd like to play him." </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Spielberg was very pleased with these
choices. "Sounds splendid."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then, turning to Schwarzenegger, he asked, "Who
do you want to be, Arnold?" Arnold in a slow deliberate voice replied,
"I'll be Bach."</span><br />
<i> </i>BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-33934884600668783922015-02-24T19:18:00.002-08:002015-02-24T19:19:18.562-08:00POEMS WITH LONG TITLES THAT IN ACTUALITY ARE RATHER SHORT AND SAY VERY LITTLE<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in; text-autospace: none;">
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">MUCH
TO MY CHAGRIN I HAVE BEEN RENDERED UNABLE TO PROCEED WITH ROUTINE MORNING
RITUALS TO BEGIN MY DAY DUE TO UNFORESEEN FACTORS OF A MOST FRUSTRATING NATURE</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">the
oatmeal</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">sweet
singing peaches</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">alas</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">still
too hot to eat</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">OF
OBSERVING SMALL PLEASURES IN LIFE FOR THOSE WHOM THOSE PLEASURES MOST LIKELY
CONSTITUTE A SIGNIFICANT PORTION OF WHAT THEY WOULD TERM AS LIFE ITSELF</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">the
janitor lady cleaned things</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">while
eating an orange popsicle</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">IN RECALLING THE DAYS OF YOUTH IN THE SUMMER OF MY FAIR CONTENT IT BECOMES APPARENT WHAT ONCE BROUGHT ME IMMEASURABLE GLEE IS NOW BUT A TRIFLE OF PITIFUL PUNNERY ALTHOUGH SOMETHING IN ME STILL GUFFAWS</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">show me your pikachu</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">or I'll take a peek-at'you </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">BEREFT
OF SATISFACTORY REASON AT TIMES I DO FIND MY EMOTIONS SPIRALING IN A TORRENT AT
THE CAUSE OF AN UNKOWN STORM AS THE EBB AND FLOW OF WORRY ENCOMPASS MY PERSON
ENTIRELY</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">sometimes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">i don't know why</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">i just feel sad</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">WHILST
RELIEVING MYSELF OF A LARGE AMOUNT OF PROCESSED LIQUIDS THAT HAD EXPIRED IN USE
FROM MY BODY I OBSERVED THE NEIGHBORING STALL TO BE OCCUPIED AND FOUND THE
STRENGTH TO RESIST TEMPTATION OF ALLOWING IMMATURITY TO HALT THE PRESENT
PROGRESS</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">whatever
you do</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">don't
cross swords</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I
WALKED BRISKLY THROUGH THE MORNING CALM AND FOUND MY SPIRIT TO ALIGN WITH MY
MIND IN A BEAUTIFUL HARMONY BROUGHT ON MERELY BY THE RICHLY NOTED FRAGRANCE AND
TEMPERAMENT OF THE AIR</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">around
nine-o'clock in the a.m.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">in april, it really smells like oregon</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">ALTHOUGH ACTIVISM IS NOT WHERE I GENERALLY SET MY SITES FOR DAILY PROCEEDINGS I COULD NOT HELP BUT BE SWEPT UP IN A CLANGOR OF WONDROUS NATURE UPON THE CAPITAL STEPS AS CERTAIN INDIVIDUALS YELLED </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">if i could be</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">king for a day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">i'd make rainbow the national color</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and chase all the crows away</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">HOW ABOUT MY MOTIVATION MAKES A FORLORN ATTEMPT AT FINDING ME INSTEAD OF ALWAYS FORCING MY SEEKING OF IT THEREBY GIVING THE WILL TO BE MOTIVATED IN THE FIRST PLACE TO SOLVE ALL MY PROBLEMS</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">yeah, I'll take a number 4, a large orange juice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and a small side of what the hell is wrong with me</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">WALKING ALONG THE PAVED ROADS WHEN THE HOUR OF THE NIGHT CREEPS ALONG SLOWLY AND THERE ARE NO CARS ONLY FOG AND STRANGE SENSATIONS OF FORGOTTEN FREEDOM SPUR ME TO UNCOMMON ACTS</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">gonna j-walk the haters away</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">lie in the street and make an invisible snow angel</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">with no snow because it's that kind of night</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">WHEN
I WOKE THAT MORN I WAS SURPRISED AT WHOM MY BED PARTNER TURNED OUT TO BE AND
UNEXPECTED PHRASES UTTERED BY THE PERSON IN QUESTION CAUSE ME GREAT CONFUSION</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">no,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">it's
okay,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">the
hickey will blend in</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">with
my horrible skin</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I'm
just tired of dating bisexuals</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">REFLECTING
ON MY TIME SPENT AS A YOUTH IN THE FIELDS OUTSIDE OF THE TOWN I CALL MY HOME
LEAVES ME AT ONCE WITH BOTH A SENSE OF NOSTALGIA AND WORRY AS I SEEK TO
TERMINALIZE THE IMPACT OF MY LIFE</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I spent so much of my childhood chasing dragonflies</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and
I still like chasing dragonflies</span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">OFTEN
I FIND MY MIND WANDERS WHILST REFUSING ATTENTIVE PARTICIPATION IN LECTURE BASED
SCIENCE CURRICULUMS AND I SEEK TO PERVERSE THE INFORMATION BEING TOLD TO THE
MASSES WITH MY OWN ORIGINAL INTERPRETATIONS ONE MIGHT DEEM CREATIVE</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">sometimes
I think I am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">odorless, colorless, and tasteless</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and
I'll never change</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I
guess that makes me... noble</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">ONCE
WHEN I WAS BUT A BABE AND KNEW NOT THE WAYS OF THE WORLD AND THE CREATURES THAT
POPULATE WITHIN IT I BELIEVED ONE INSECT IN PARTICULAR WENT ABOUT ITS
INSIGNIFICANT LIFE SPAN WITH ONLY THE DESIRE TO CAUSE MILD DISCOMFORT</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">itchy
itchy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">a
mosquito bit me</span></div>
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BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-32961682794416695632015-02-19T22:04:00.002-08:002015-02-19T22:04:26.067-08:00Thoughts About Thinking<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>THOUGHTS about THINKING</b></div>
<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<br /> I'm starting to worry I'm going to lose my mind.<br /> No, not in the going crazy kind of way.<br /> Actually, far from it, I'm worried I'm going to be too sane.<br />
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
Now, it could very much be influenced by my surroundings, situation, and being in Japan.<br /> But it seems like no one around me talks about anything.<br /> And I hold out hope that maybe, just maybe, they're thinking of things, but I'm worried.<br /> When I was in a cubicle in America, it was not much different.<br />
Talk is over the new artisan cake shop, something a famous person they
never met said, gross general statements about people and casually
categorizing words (their 'beliefs'), and whatever hijinks their cat got
into last night.<br /> Or they just talk about work.<br /> Or no one talks at all.<br />
And again, maybe in their personal world of thoughts there is something
more bumping around. Co-workers are, on a whole, only one step above
acquaintance. But even among friends the conversation usually stays
around people and events, and rarely strays to ideas or thoughts.<br />
Though most seem closed off anyway, already knowing how they think about
something, decided in what they like, making them either extremely
present, way back in the past, or far off in an unknown future.<br /> .<br /> .<br /> I have lunch with a group of teachers everyday.<br />
So on one afternoon while they were talking about the latest album
release from one of the most over-produced supergroups, I was trying to
work out in my head the rates of domestic agriculture production in
Japan versus the agriculture industry of exports in China, making best
estimates from what I know of either economy, factoring in shipping,
then attempting to decide how high import tariffs would need to be to
keep markets level in competition.<br />
<br />
The next day, they were
talking about course prices of a restaurant they wanted to go to, and if
7000yen was worth the amount of food they would get, going back and
forth over who drinks how much and whose diet wouldn't make it worth the
bill, but how good the food was. I was busy being quiet, trying to
determine the extent of the effect that love can motivate actions, with
the variables of how much "love" is present and how susceptible a person
can be to love. How much love would one who is cold and solitary need
to have to willingly leave their job to be with that other person?
Inversely, how much would someone with a predisposition towards being in
love need to feel to do the same?<br />
The next next day, they were
talking about the changes in the schedule for the day, and I was trying
to think of every fish I could name.<br />
<br />
To be clear, I'm not trying
to find some greater answer--'love' is not a quantifiable thing, but if
it was, how would you count it? I'm just using my observations and
understandings to think of things. Thinking is a hobby. Right now, I'm
thinking of how uncommon that hobby seems to become as life settles
around you with age, and some of these people aren't even 30.<br />
<br />
I
usually don't have a lot to contribute, but I'm still listening and
understanding the whole time (even in a second language) and make
comments where I can. When they run out of things to say, sometimes one
of the teachers will ask me what I've been doing, and I tell them about
my recent attempts to submit short fiction to sci-fi anthologies, or a
escapade into Tokyo to see a rock group no one at the table has ever
heard of. Their reaction is always followed with astonishment. I
entertain the thought they could be flattering me, but the surprise
comes across as pretty genuine, followed by "wakai ne!" (you're still a
young dude!).<br />
<br /> Other times, I tell them "not much" or "sleeping"
because I know they're only asking out of boredom and will switch topics
as soon as another thought in the group comes up.<br /> There have been a
few times they've even asked what I'm thinking. That gets a really
surprised reaction, when I say something like "I'm thinking about
whether lakes form differently by their altitude being above or below
sea level". (If you speak Japanese, have some vocab! sea level:
'kaimen', above sea level: 'kaibatsu', below sea level: 'kaimenka', and
good luck finding a place to use it, laughing out loud)<br />
<br />
Am I just
more honest and forthcoming with what I'm saying? Could be. I know
there is a group dynamic here--that people in a group want to talk about
safe, surface subjects that anyone can go along with (though those can
often be reverse-alienating if you are not interested in the bland
waters of the mainstream) and I know what I think of seems further out
there, but the chances to talk with only 1 or 2 other people grow fewer
as folks just get too busy, and groups become the main. I'm worried. I'm
not saying these people don't think; they are active, adaptive,
strong-willed teachers who work with teenagers every day, and if
anything are more youthful for it. I worked a number of different jobs
when I was back in the States with all kinds of folks, and don't find
country of origin to make much difference with personal interactions.
I'm aware that Japan is more secluded, sharing less than other
societies, but these people are friends who work together, going out
drinking with each other, and act and speak like any other groups I've
been in.<br /> .<br /> .<br /> I'LL PULL THIS ALL BACK TO SUMMARY: all in all, it's not them I'm worried about--it's me.<br />
I'm worried I'll stop thinking.<br />
I like the part of me that still questions, wonders, asks why and then
tries to form answers. It's given me powers of judgment and compassion
as a result, an overall wisdom I pride myself on. As years go on,
however, the sort of wide-eyed conversation and consideration for life,
how to live it, and all things in it continues to decrease in frequency
and length. No one wants to talk much, unless it's a heated political
issue that calls some preset value they have into question. No one wants
to examine things for the sake of seeing what more there is too them,
or think of the abstract for the sake of thinking. The trend is more
towards whatever is right in front of them making them busy, or whatever
will make them feel relaxed to do after. And I'm worried the more I'm
continuing with people around in this universal trend, the more I'll
keep slipping in with it. Will I be the guy to point out the new artisan
cake shop? Will I buy a TV just to see what everyone else is talking
about? The age of social media and anything "viral" throws so much in
front of us, but is more thinking the result, or just more passive
reception to be counted like items on a list later.<br /> "Did you see _____?"<br /> "Yes, I did."<br /> "Okay."<br />
Even if there is a 'what did you think' to follow, it usually doesn't
go on for more than a sentence of two, because the other side is not
really asking to engage the idea, more often than not it's just to see
if you share the same perspective, so then you get that little spark of
connection-communication, and you can move on with the day.<br />
<br />
I
want to continue living an observed life, where everything can be turned
into a chance to think, reason, and understand. It's that form of
brain-tinkering that brought me into the person I am now, that's pushed
me to live a more challenging life, and do things no one else has done,
for the experience and to see what comes next. I want to keep thinking,
thinking as an active mode of operation, not just an occasional
necessity. And I'm wondering how I'm going to do that when a lot of the
dialog around me doesn't come out as conducive and lulls me into
slogging along in the daily grind, where a day can go by without a
thought.<br />
<br />
I've recently returned to trying to memorize song lyrics
just to give my mental-bits something to do. I've been writing more,
revising too, and am trying to internalize the thinking process to make
it less dependent on outside factors, though those have always been the
ones I've enjoyed, trying to gain another perspective and hear things
said in a different way.<br />
<br />
I'm assuming only about 3 and a half
people have the attention span / care enough to have read this far, but I
wonder if there are others out there who feel the same? Wanna be
thought-based pen-pals? I don't want to misplace the communication
connection of thinking, as another good-brain perspective always opens
up as much new territory as a new dimension.<br />
<br />
Where I am, job-wise
and by way of country, is temporary. Within about a year I'll be
looking for a new place to start a new chapter of life, and that will
come with all kinds of exciting challenges and frustrating struggles,
though there's no way I can know what they'll be. And I think the best
thing I can do to prepare for them is to keep thinking, keep my mind
sharp, and not let myself go too sane. After all, I don't want to lose
my mind.</div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-86073623804228676052015-02-18T17:47:00.001-08:002015-02-18T18:20:21.302-08:00Green Demon & Purple Demon<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<i>[Japan has a moral education fairy tale, called "Red Demon and Blue Demon", wherein blue demon follows the advice of red demon to make friends with village children, which leads to red demon leaving forever so he won't scare the kids. It is a dumb story, and it also is a very poor moral story, as it seems to dissuade students from communicating with their friends. So, I rewrote the story (to a higher level of English, but) with a better ending, supporting the value of friendship, and the two demons become radical rockstars.]<br /><br /></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>GREEN DEMON & PURPLE DEMON</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>by Brent Danley Jones</i><b> </b></div>
<br />
<br />
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--></style><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>Once upon a time Green Demon
lived in the city of Shimokitazawa. Green Demon wanted to be a famous rockstar drummer.
So he put a board in front of his live house. He wrote the words, `I`m a
radical drummer! Please come and listen!` But everyone was afraid of him so no
one came in, because he was a scary demon and his ticket price was too high. He
felt angry and finally took the board away.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One day, Purple Demon came to
Green Demon`s house. He said, `Do you really want to be a famous drummer?`
Green Demon said, `Yes, I do!` Purple Demon agreed with him and said, `Okay,
you need to start a band. I am a great guitarist. Together, we will be the
Toxic Brothers!` Green Demon liked Purple Demon`s idea and said, `That`s a
great idea! We may have an awesome time!` Then they went down to the village
station to perform a street live.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Lots of people were at the
station. Suddenly, Green Demon and Purple Demon came. They shouted, `We are the
Toxic Brothers! We`ll rock your world!` The people were excited and shouted, `Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey!` with their hands in the air. Then, Green Demon sang: `<i>When
you`re lost, and you don`t know what to do, listen to your demon heart, and let
the music guide you!`</i></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> Green Demon hit
the drums like crazy and Purple Demon played like his hands were on fire.
Everyone shouted, `Yaaaaaaaay!`</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The people cheered, `Thank you for your awesome performance! You are
radical dudes. We want to go to your live house.` Green Demon`s live house
became very popular and the Toxic Brothers were the most famous band in the local indie scene.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A few years later, Green Demon went to Purple Demon`s
apartment to thank him. Green Demon found a letter on the door:</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">`Hey Green Demon,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 4.0gd; margin-right: 7.06gd; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -3.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I`m glad you are a famous rockstar now. I want to play
with you again, but I need to become a more powerful guitarist. I will go far
away into the mountains to practice with the Guitar God and find myself. I will
always be your friend.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rock on,</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Purple Demon.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Green Demon couldn`t believe it. He made a new band
called The Purple Hearts and they also became very famous. Green Demon never
forgot the power of music thanks to Purple Demon.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A few years later, Green Demon still did not
forget about his long lost friend. He wanted to tell Purple Demon that he
didn`t need to be better, because he was already a very powerful guitarist that
had all the Toxic Brothers needed to be a radical band. Green Demon decided to
follow Purple Demon into the mountains to tell him that the power of music was
more important to him than how well someone can play guitar.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">When Green Demon got to the top of the mountain, he
was amazed by what he saw. Purple Demon was playing guitar… in a big rock
battle with the Guitar God! Purple Demon was having a hard time. Green Demon
wanted to help. He quickly made a drumset from sticks, stones, and a mountain
goat. He played like crazy, supporting Purple Demon. Because they had always been best friends, they matched each other
perfectly and played and played and kept playing with awesome power until the Guitar God
exploded in a brilliant pyrotechnics display. It was the greatest song in the
world, even though no one was there to see it but the two demons.</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">`We did it! We did it!` Purple Demon said. He was so
happy that he jumped up and down. But Green Demon went over and hit him! `Ow!
Why would you do that?`</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">`What a fool you are! You could have been killed by
the Guitar God`s groovy high voltage music. I know you wanted to be stronger, but you
should have told me, your best friend, about your plans. I could have come to
practice here with you. You taught me the power of music, but also you taught
me the power of friendship. If there is anything more important than music, it
is believing in your friends!`</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Purple Demon was crying. He said `You’re right, music
is radical, but playing music with your friends is the most awesome.`</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">`Right on dude!`</span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 42.0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Green Demon and Purple Demon went back down the
mountain and started a new band, DEMON800, and played a lot of radical music as
friends forever and ever.</span></div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-12740451476829770942015-02-16T05:58:00.004-08:002015-02-16T05:58:47.190-08:00Anti-Humor Jokes & Post-Modern Internet Rose Poems<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">JOKES:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q. What did the Farmer say when he lost his Tractor?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A. "Where the hell is my Tractor?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q. What smells like blue paint but looks like red paint?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A. Red paint<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q. What's brown and sticky?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A. a stick.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The little boy walks into a classroom and says "poop-poop-poop, you're poop-poopy pants!".<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Teacher says don't say that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The little boy says "okay, sorry".<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> So a guy walks into a bar,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">he drinks there every day,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">it's slowly destroying his family.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this guy walks into a bar, orders some food and eats it,
shoots the bartender, then leaves like nothing happened.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So another patron of the bar was like "well what the fuck
was that?!" and another patron tells him, oh he's a panda bear, he eats
shoots and leaves.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q. If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off,
how many pancakes fit in a doghouse?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;">A. None!
Ice cream doesn't have bones!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POEMS:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roses are red...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Violets are blue...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In Soviet Russia,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">poem writes you<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roses are red,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Violets are blue,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This line doesn't rhyme,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And neither does this one<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roses are red,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Violets are blue.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't get a girl,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I guess you'll do.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I whistled for a cab,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and when it came near,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the license said fresh,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">it had dice in the mirror<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pokeballs are red</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Great balls are blue</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 21.3333339691162px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just like I chose my charmander</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 21.3333339691162px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now I choose you!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roses are red<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Violets are blue<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tulips are pink<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And sometimes yellow<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mario is red</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sonic is blue</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Will you please be</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Player 2</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roses are red<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Violets are blue<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All of my base<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Are belong to you</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roses are grey</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Violets are grey</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Everything's grey</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm a dog</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">roses are red,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">violets are purple<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">shit<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">nothing rhymes with purple</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 21.3333339691162px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">roses are red</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 21.3333339691162px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">oranges are orange</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 21.3333339691162px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">fuck</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 21.3333339691162px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">missed here again too</span></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-38099159751016673752014-10-22T06:32:00.002-07:002014-12-03T06:33:28.178-08:00Tekkids: The Beginning<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"> It would be a long be a long
walk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">The ruddy, muddy path before
them curved and turned near through the towering husks of scorched trees,
burned but not forgotten, watching them as they passed quiet beneath their
ashen skeletons. A breeze picked up, blowing a grey, dead snow down as they trudged
along, wary and weary, looking for a place to camp before the coming night.</span><span style="font-family: "MS Mincho"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "MS Mincho";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Somewhere in the distance
something like a bird or paca was bleating a message in shrill squawks, and it
sounds like </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier-Oblique; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier-Oblique;">"get
out, get out, get out." </span></i><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">There's not
a single welcoming quality to the forest of Fen, leaving was already the plan,
to make it to some city and see what was left of the sky again, even one ringed
with fire would be better than this dull grey overcast of arboreal shells.
After last night, she was exhausted, and plodded forward hardly able to keep a
consistent thought in her head. That was fine though. She didn't want to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">They just got out of another
altercation, one that left Rosy with bruises all down her arms with a bad burn
on her shoulder, and Kehl… he was fighting back another round of nausea. It
couldn't keep on going like this, something was going to break that couldn't
get fixed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">While the rope had tightened
around Rosy's neck, she'd still stayed conscious enough to hear the mention of
a city on the other side of the diseased woods. <i>Lodestone.</i> She chanted the name over and over in her mind’s voice, <i>Lodestone, Lodestone, Lodestone. </i>Maybe
if they made it there, discovered more information about what was happening in
the ongoing conflict, maybe then they could find a cure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">...But then where would they
go?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">+++<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">From the onset of the night
before, after they left the small post for trading caravans, it didn't take
long until their 'guides' turned out to be the opposite of what was promised.
It didn't come at a complete surprise--they'd been half-expecting it since they
made it past the crowds and out into the rural reaches of Lemmingstown, when
their two new compatriots had an argument over which path to take upon entering
the Fen. True guides also traveled slower and with more gear, whereas these
seemed to be in a hurry to leave the wagon trains behind. Even then, it was
better to travel with someone, anyone, instead of venture out all alone, just
the two of them. If anything, it would give extra fodder on the road in case of
another monstroid attack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">After barely making it away
from the glow of the last campfire, the would-be woodsman were already setting
the snare, saying they should make camp away from too many prying eyes so no
one would come upon their little group in the night. It wouldn't be the first
time things got suspicious quick, someone making a promise and meaning the
opposite of what they said. Nowadays everyone seemed desperate. Being a child
made no exception in that. How quickly "keep you safe" could mean
"attack and sell you" made paranoia the standard mindset to those
that wanted to stay alive. Unnervingly, not everyone did want to keep going.
Occasionally you’d glance a body’s remains stren among the jagged rocks at the
bottom of a cliff. First reaction then was, ‘can I get down there to see if any
usable gear might be left?’ Shows the sour reality of how times were changing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Usually, these poachers of
people waited longer to earn trust before springing the trap. Rosy and Kehl had
known shackles, but history wasn't going to repeat so soon. Nor would it ever
have to, if they were prepared to pay the price.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Where are we
headed?" Rosy asked tracker Allar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"What? Why you wanta
know? We getcha their safe, like we said."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Yes, thank you, only
the Fen stretches quite a distance, doesn't it? I heard tell around the trading
post of a big city on the other side, the one down from Snake Lake. I just
wanted to know if that was the direction we were heading." Even though she
had only begun taking on the transition from kid to girl, she was not clueless
or thoughtless as her youth may suggest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Yeah? You head about
the city, huh? But you ain't been through here before, huh?" Allar fiddled
with a knife on a flint stone over a small tinder pile, though no sparks were
coming off with the scrapes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"We haven't been to the
other side of Fen, no. But we made it all the way here from quite far away,
from North Lea. We're just looking for a bigger place to find something to
do."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Yeah, well I got a bit
of bad news," he put the flint stone away, giving up on the fire--or
finishing what he was originally intent on doing, "see, Lukus and I hear
track the Fen and try to catch them metal beasts what bother travelers. So
happens that a couple smaller logtowns up norther are paying more for 'em fresh
kilt than the city."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Oh," putting a bit
of despondency in her tone, "we were hoping to reach south."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">" . . . "<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"But we'll be much, much
better off going that way after we get across the Fen. Thank you for your
help."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Mhmm. Now go to sleep
kids, gotta a lot to do tomorrow. A lot of walking. Actually probably best not
to start a fire, don't want none of them beasts comin' on out tonight, right?
Don' you worry, Lukus is a strong guy, he'll stay up a while and watch."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Rosy and Kehl took the cue
and began to spread out their thin bedrolls. It used to be on nights like this,
with only the darker of the moons showing in the sky, children would stay up
and talk about things they'd seen and what they'd see from here, excited about
what was out there, and someone would always try to scare younger kids by
telling them about some huge black shadow monster just outside the brushpile
watching and waiting until they slept. Rosy and Kehl knew better. You didn't
talk. You did not draw attention. And you listened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">The one called Allar went
after Rosy just as she was laying to test the bedroll placement, silently
lashing a tethered cord around her neck. She only got out a squeak before the
man's hand was around her mouth, his knee in the small of her back forcing her
chest to the ground. "Don't worry. I think we might change plans and head
to your big city, Lodestone pays better for live things than dead ones."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">The other guide, Lukus,
nabbed Kehl in one arm, and Kehl ripped that arm off, a clean break from the
shoulder socket. Allar said Lukus wa strong, but he could have never known how
much stronger Kehl's Arms were. Rosy didn't have that kind of power, but she
still had teeth and sunk them into her assailant's hand. He cried out in pain,
but that didn't deter him from making a few more coils in the nylon binding
rope now woven around her small body. The cords gripped into her skin through
her thick orange fur dress and hurt despite the layers. Allar hadn't noticed
the partner slaver, riling on the ground, clutching his own arm in his opposite
hand, lost to shock. The man on Rosy kept his hold but lost his nerve when he
turned to see what Kehl had done, and it was just then now-dead Lukus's head
popped like a blister.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Stripping himself of the
heavy teal jacket he always wore, Kehl made for Allar, coming for Rosy. She
threw her hair away from her Eye and could see an instant aura of fear, and a
deeper peer through his first layer of garments revealed just in time as Allar
drove his hand to an inside pocket, "Kehl! He's gotta a shock-stick, watch
out!"</span><span style="font-family: "MS Mincho"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "MS Mincho";"> </span><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"> Kehl stopped his approach short, instead
snatching up a round rock that should have been used for their fire pit,
launching it through the collar bone and out the back of Allar before he could
point the shock-stick and fire. Ligaments plucked like string, the stick fell
and went off on hitting the ground, launching a stream of white-blue lightning
just past Rosy's head but catching her shoulder, prompting loose a wail of
agony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Without a word Kehl pounced
the man, dug his fingers inbetween his ribs and pulled, splitting him from the
left of his sternum in two like cracked nut. Rosy tried to yell, to tell him
not to use so much power, that he'd push too far, but Kehl was young,
temperamental, and didn't yet understand the full effects of what he had on his
arms. He only pulled back after Allar had an "O" like shape to his
torso. By then, Rosy had squeezed out of her binding to catch Kehl as he
stumbled, looking pale. With Eyes to the trees above, he vomited and Rosy
rolled him over. "Pushed himself too far", she muttered. Already she
could feel his veins growing turgid and his limbs became stiff. There was
nothing she could do but lay him down, gather the gear of the two
guides-turned-corpses, and lie awake until dawn when Kehl regained
consciousness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">You think she'd have been
scared. She wasn't. Just sad. And worried. This wasn't the first, second, or
third time this happened. She shed a few tears while Kehl couldn't see,
frustrated on having to ponder how many more times this would happen. Rosy
could only hope it wasn't hopeless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">The glaring moon glowered
high in the sky, mid-day and no shadow time, signaling rest. They found a hovel
in the recess of a particularly towering fallen ash tree. Rosy pulled out a
canteen on a skein of knotted intestine taken from last night's attackers to
give Kehl a drink. She went to take a swig herself first before spitting the
liquid right back out, her mouth on fire. </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier-Oblique; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier-Oblique;">Rotgrog</span></i><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">, as nasty as it was potent, cheapest booze you could buy but only
drank by those who truly could not afford something better. Made all the more
sense why her people-trapper's from yesterday turned to crime life. Rosy kicked
herself for not checking first and trading the contents for water before
setting out, but she wanted to depart the gruesome scene before any passerby
stumbled on the barbarized bodies. Some may have known those two cadavers, but
she doubt they'd be missed. Possibly they were even beyond recognition. Rosy
still shuddered to think of what Kehl could do, though at the same time that
power became strangely normal. With her companion still reeling in a weakened
state now, Rosy had only been able to carry a small amount of the gear she got
off the slavers, and a vial of </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier-Oblique; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier-Oblique;">rotgrog</span></i><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"> was not going to help them through the Fen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Rosy tried to sit, let her
body be at rest, and collect her thoughts like she'd been told to do from time
to time. They were still alive (for what it was worth), they had more gear than
when they started yesterday (though at a price), and they made some progress
through the Fen (but slower than they would if they hadn't been attacked by
their guides), and they were on a pretty well-worn path (however they didn't
know where it'd go). Okay, thinking wasn't working.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Instead, she put her
attention on Kehl. His breathing was labored by a bit, but his Eyes were open
and alert. They hadn't spoken all morning. Both knew what the other was
thinking, and the conversation they'd have to have, but the two continued
mutually delaying that inevitable exchange. A light mist started to fall, and
turned out to be nothing more than the ashes from the tops of surrounding trees
blowing in the wind, giving the air a heavy stink of stale sulfur. "We
should take it easy today. It's not like anywhere else is better than here.
Everything's probably even worse," Rosy spoke finally. Kehl sniffed in through his nose to recall a
wet booger on its way out. "Uh-huh. Probably." Rosy looked over to
Kehl, who didn't give his eyes back. It made her realize she still had her Eye
out, and she made a quick attempt to look natural as she moved her hair in
front of it and cupped the rest of her curls behind her ear. She knew her Eye
still frightened him, though it couldn't be more than Kehl's Arms frightened
her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Unbuckling the clasp of her
pack, she removed the leather straps but let out a quick peal of pain where the
shock-stick blast scorched her skin. That got Kehl's attention, asking
"you all right?" Rosy more gingerly removed that strap, wincing as
she gently rotated it over the skin beneath. "Yes. I'm fine. It's not as
bad as stuff before, and I know it'll heal up really quick like it always
does." She tried to think positive, like she had been told to do. She
shrugged off the hurt, instead reminding herself that they were up another
weapon, Allar's shock-stick now in </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier-Oblique; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier-Oblique;">her</span></i><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"> coat pocket, which gave them an additional method of defense, one
that didn't use Kehl's Arms or Rosy's Eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Don't look, Kehl. That
reminded me, I should change the bandage on my shoulder. Those stupids at least
had sense to carry some medical junk with'em." Before she even took and
arm out of the sleeve of her dress Kehl blushed a shade of pink that clashed
with the somber color of his jacket. In a strange way she didn't show, it made
her happy to see they were both still very much mortalfolk. Kehl feigned
disinterest and went to kick at a charred stump while Rosy carefully picked at
where blood and blackened skin stuck to the piece of cloth she strapped on in
the morning. It hurt, but she was stronger than that familiar feeling of pain.
Wadding up new cloth, she taped it down and slung her arm back through her fur
dress. The shade of pale, faded orange that colored her one-piece was just like
the hue of light bouncing off the moon. She could just make out the beams
coming down through the smoky tops of dead standing trees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Okay. You can look now.
Oh, and come back over here Kehl, I still have some of that ointment we got and
you could use it on your Arms." She pulled on the lid of a rubber tub
taken from a hipsack. It was greasy to the touch and no matter how much she
wiped at it with her pantleg it never got not-sticky. "No, I'm fine, it
doesn't hurt. It's fine," Kehl said, still facing the other way and
preferring to busy himself with the stump.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">It wasn't until Rosy rolled
up one of Kehl's sleeve under protest that she saw why he was acting resistant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Kehl… this is
bad."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"No! It's fine, I said
it's fine!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"It gone to your elbows.
Kehl it's already made it to your elbows, and that was just last night. Ten
moon-cycles ago it was just getting past your wrists." Now, from finger to
forearm, and organic twisting of nano-metal took the place where flesh should
be. It was cold to the touch, but looked alive, practically pulsing as Rosy
inspected further to see new thin wires beginning to sprout around the joints,
along with a new dull blue light shining through a hard-casing just below
Kehl's palm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Just put the greasy
stuff on and leave it alone. It's not so bad."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"You can't do what you
did, you can't use so much energy, too much is going to make this spread
faster, you know that!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Yeah, and then what, we
don't even know what happens when it does. Maybe nothing. Maybe it will just
stop. Or maybe it'll make us really, really strong and then no one will ever
bother us again. And it doesn't matter. That stupid guy, he was hurting you, he
had you in ropes and, I didn't want to get captured again, and sold, and end up
somewhere where the hurt… hurt you and… "<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Kehl began to trail off in
tears, but Rosy had sealed off that protective reaction to his crying; it could
be a tool just like the ointment. "Don't even. Don't even start to blubber
about that. You know--knew--we were never in danger. You freaked out too fast,
Kehl. Even if he had me tied up, he never said how he wanted us 'alive' to do
whatever with. If those idiots didn't know about what we could do then, all it
would take is being patient and waiting for them to go pee or something, then
we could have broken out and used </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier-Oblique; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier-Oblique;">a
lot less power</span></i><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">. I could have scanned them
to see what they had and told you that. You can't just keep exploding like that
or we're going to run out of time."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Just shut up about it,"
Kehl hit her on the shoulder, the one with the burn, not too hard but enough to
make her yell out, "see, that hurts and that's because he hurt you! I'll
do what I want, </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier-Oblique; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier-Oblique;">I'm not going
back to being in a cage again!</span></i><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Rosy's tempered flared,
"You freaking little jerk, don't touch me! What was that for?" Rosy
pushed him back and he stumbled over the burnt stump and fell backwards, no
doubt struggling with the increased weight of his Arms, tears still welling in
his eyes. Rosy stopped herself then, not saying anything else. She barely slept
last night, but had to control her nerves better with him, she couldn't let him
get the best of her over this. All things considered, this was out of a place
projected by fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"I told you I wouldn't
*sniff* let anyone *sniff* hurt you and still I *sniff* couldn't get there in
time." He stayed on the ground and took a moment to himself as Rosy tried
to regain her composition. She needed to remember, Kehl was only a boy of 10,
and a sensitive one at that. Even if she was 12, she still had to be the adult.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"Kehl… look at it this
way, if this machine infection spreads too far up your arms, well, you won't be
able to save me from anything. You'll go crazy, like the kids back from
Newton."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"*sniff* I'm sorry. I'm
sorry I hit you. It's just… so hard *sniff* sometimes."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">"I know," she
grabbed his hand, wincing as the cold metal wrapped around hers stronger than
Kehl knew he was gripping. She bared that, and helped him up. "I know it
is. Just… you have to be really, really careful, okay. Now roll up your sleeves
more, you really should have told me earlier."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Kehl sucked in a trail of
snot and did as he was told. “I know… you’re right. It is… annoying (Rosy knew
that was a quick substitute for the word ‘hurt’) and it makes it feel like my
arm won’t move so good.” The woolen glove came off and he rolled up the
opposite sleeve. It had spread to same place near his elbow, though this Arm
had streaks of dark grey metal alloys that took over for skin, smooth like
stone. Underneath the forearm, small levers and a pulley system worked quietly
in place of muscle fibers as he continued to raise his sleeve, up the point
where skin and meat and bone took back over. It looked like his elbow bend
might turn in to some kind of piston mechanism. Rosy wouldn't admit her
thought, but she was curious what the machinery would look like once it rounded
the elbow, what kind of bio-nano would take the place of shoulder and neck
tissue, how the bone would hold against impact and how the rotating motion of
complex ball joints would function. Maybe his arm wouldn't move the same way
again, and would get stuck turned straight, like a pole with a hammer for a hand.
She wouldn't admit to thinking it, but she knew it would happen before too much
longer, at this rate. If they kept running into trouble, and needed to use the
power in his Arms, it would go that much faster, a seemingly exponential
increase. For now, she forced a smile and blew at the tears on Kehl's cheek as
she applied the salve. It made him laugh, "Stop! It's cold when you do
that."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Rosy finished applying the
ointment and backed off, jamming the rubber lid back on the tub as her smile
faded. She thought of how one day, if things didn't get better, Kehl might not
feel a cold sensation on his cheek anymore. He might not be able to feel
anything, anywhere. No, she couldn't do this, couldn't spiral down. She steeled
her nerves, "You can't let anyone see your tears, Kehl. You're not weak.
You have to be strong all over, not just in your Arms, okay." She turned
to walk off, half-intending the dramatic effect, and made for the path through
the ashen trees.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Kehl stood, rolled his
sleeves down and thrust his metal fingers clumsily into his beige wool gloves,
back to looking every bit the young boy he still was, no different than so many
other orphaned children attempting survival in a world gone wrong. He took a
deep breath, exhaling with an audible puff of air and picking up his chin, "Yes,
Rosy. You're right. I'll be strong. I will." Kehl followed after.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-6018021713517511682014-10-01T00:12:00.001-07:002014-10-01T00:15:15.476-07:00[Tekkids]: Lit Trailer<i>An excerpt from the beginning of Chapter 2</i>:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT19_bdBTRsnUG1RghulvsKJXji4UkQPjFbEq7nMXRlZy9eVrdFIRZQZBEJvuS2pqeY6CpMkAQrzbd_0Ksk7_dQTrvVbJPPh3TddX4lfQky8eQrMKkc4tx3JJq4w8JBwt7H0IM1Q2zwwA/s1600/campfire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT19_bdBTRsnUG1RghulvsKJXji4UkQPjFbEq7nMXRlZy9eVrdFIRZQZBEJvuS2pqeY6CpMkAQrzbd_0Ksk7_dQTrvVbJPPh3TddX4lfQky8eQrMKkc4tx3JJq4w8JBwt7H0IM1Q2zwwA/s1600/campfire.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
From the onset of the night before, after they left the small post for trading caravans, it didn't take long until their 'guides' turned out to be the opposite of what was promised. It didn't come at a complete surprise--they'd been half-expecting it after they'd gotten past the crowds and out into the rural reaches of Lemmingstown. True guides traveled slower and with more gear. Even then, it was better to travel with someone, anyone, instead of venture out all alone, just the two of them. If anything, it would give extra fodder on the road in case of another attack.<br />
<br />
After barely making it away from the glow of the last campfire their would-be woodsman were already setting the snare to sell them back into slavery, saying they should make camp away from too many prying eyes so no one would come upon their little group in the night. It wouldn't be the first time this happened. Someone making a promise and meaning the opposite of what they said. How quickly "keep you safe" could mean "attack and sell you". Usually, these poachers of people waited longer to earn trust before springing the trap. Rosy and Kehl had known shackles, but history wasn't going to repeat so soon. Nor would it ever have to, if they were prepared to pay the price.<br />
<br />
The one called Allar went after Rosy first, silently lashing a tethered cord around her while she bent to set out her sleeping roll. She only got out a squeak before the man's hand was around her mouth, his knee in the small of her back forcing her to the ground. The other guide of the Fen, Lukus, nabbed Kehl in one arm, and Kehl ripped that arm off, a clean break from the shoulder socket. Rosy didn't have that kind of power, but she still had teeth and sunk them into her assailant's hand. He cried out in pain, but that didn't deter him from making a few more coils in the nylon binding rope now woven around her small body. The cords gripped into her skin through her thick orange fur dress and hurt despite the layers...<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>And that's all you get! "Wait, did a <b>kid</b> just <b>rip a dude's arm out of its socket</b>?" My, aren't you the observant one. Here's hoping you'll want to know more of these two and what will happen to them. Needless to say, looks like the two guides-turned-slavers won't be main characters.</i>BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-67157652087458065862014-05-22T23:44:00.002-07:002014-05-22T23:48:39.766-07:00Bathroom Time as Near Religious Experiences<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>And ongoing joke (with myself) of how an extreme sense of relief
upon the porcelain alter we so often worship can be described in a
similar tone to folks going on about their religious transformations. I
apologize in advance for any disgust/shameless giggles reading the
following may bring... Without guilt or embarrassment, I bolded the ones
that made me chortle.</i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
+==BATHROOM TIME as NEAR RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES==+</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"A piece of myself was given."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I had never felt such release."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I was humbled by my own creation, from what I made inside of myself that day."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"When the tears came, they were of joy."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Through the pain, we bear our burden knowing what awaits us when we finish. It is what</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we were sent here to do that matters most."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"I'll never go back to what I left behind."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Such a personal experience, coming from deep within, gave way to something I could finally call my own."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"I felt lighter, yet somehow also more whole."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"Sometimes, I think I hear voices."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I finally felt like I knew what I was doing, like I knew why I was here, what I was put here to do."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I was proud, and thought of my family."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I didn't want to miss my chance."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I had spent so much of my life doing things all wrong. Then I learned how to wash myself clean of the awful things I'd done."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"The catharsis of moving from a necessary pain into a state of relief beyond words will not be something I soon forget."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"I have sinned, and I shall repent."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I've
never known such peace as when I threw open the door to the shining
white room, filled with bright light, and sat upon my own throne."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"It is only through suffering that we learn to appreciate the simple things in life." </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"There is nothing left for me to do here."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I prefer solace when I cleanse myself."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"I felt, for so long, that something was in my way. Now,
finally, I'm rid of all that was blocking me and feel a new sense of
freedom. My whole body feels lighter."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I cried… "</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"It burned."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"I can never go back."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>...any I missed?</i><b> </b></div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-21382087242419102882014-05-20T21:02:00.004-07:002014-05-20T21:02:29.365-07:00EDITORIAL: The Internet's Biggest Players are Winning the Information War in some of the Most Curious and Absurd of Ways and We Just Lost Youtube<br />I recalled a video I favorited on Youtube way back that I wanted to check, and was unpleasantly surprised to find the site had been destroyed by the entity that claimed it.<br />Youtube has been sucked into the Googleplex and you've all lost another layer of meta-independence if you want a degree of entertainment control back--you can't access your favorites from before without making a playlist, you can't make an effective playlist without a channel, and you can't have a "new" Youtube channel without also creating a Google+ account, and--at the end--you can't have a Google+ account with willingly submitting more of your information, being pulled further into the swelling mass that will culminate into the beast which we'll fight in wars of the future to retrieve who we are.<br />Now you mayn't favorite GoT clips of Aunt Lysa falling through the Moon Door like a bad 80's horror flick UNLESS you allow yourself to be pulled *just a little bit further* into the untold machinations of the 'Net machine.<br /><br />--Okay, maybe that's a little extreme, but have you noticed the largely unfavorable changes that have constantly pushed you further and further down the rabbit whole of Net dependence? Add in the how "they" don't seem to care what the community thinks of the demands and changes (FB, iTunes, anything Google touches) made to their highly integrated product. They've moved in unfavorable ways, and really they're just getting started.<br /><br />Usually I wouldn't be the one to say "Oh noez, the internet got dumberer" but the extent to which megacorps web-based servicers are considering themselves infallible as a necessity of daily life, and the slow yet continuous push they make to force users into going along with their wants (gathering info, linking to unrelated other services, compiling accounts, etc.) has gone from subtle to painfully obvious, and I'm becoming increasing aware of just how invasive a lot of this meta-data has become, and the dare-I-say sci-fi "dystopian" image they're beginning to paint.<br /><br />Now, I knew that nothing on the web was private, and it was silly for people to ever assume so. I know that data is sold and the government monitors everything, and if you didn't think that before the NSA ousting than you were fooling yourselves with assumed good intentions of these auspicious free servicers.<br /><br />What is pushing me back in my chair and pulling my hands away from the keyboard now is the extent to which the massive networks like Facebook and Google are eliciting your voluntarily surrender of personal information and acceptance of their methods. A lot of this is timing, having grown up in the generation the series of tubes known as the Internet came about. Anyone with common sense wariness would have hesitated five years ago to put their email into a site, and made dummy accounts just for that reason.<br />Now, under the guise of security and identity protection, your personal information is forfeit already but they keep asking for more. This permeates to the absurd extent that FB put buttons all over your profile for *your friends* to "ask" that you post more personal information--FB is having "your friends" farm information for them now.<br /><br />As I mentioned before. A healthy amount of wariness from the generation that began the internet generally keeps you suspicious enough to question the need for this endless data collection.<br />What worries me most is the generation below us--they want to be entertained, they want to do everything on the net, and ***every big servicer is making it look like giving up personal information constantly (numbers, emails, check-ins) is not just okay, but it's "fun" and you SHOULD do it*** and a lot of folks do.<br />After Edward Snowden made the NSA basically have to admit to what most folks already assumed it was doing anyway, there was a lot of sabre rattling from older people, but the youngest generation is being sucked right up the information vacuum in exchange for access to HD viewing of music videos. When the younger people think this is normal, they'll question less and less what the entities above them ask of them. This is where we start to slip into the plot origin of most 1990s sci-fi (by the way, a lot of which has been scary accurate over time) and I'm not a conspiracy theorists or even a paranoid kind of guy, I'm just trying to pay attention to the intentions behind what is going on with this massive collection of interlinked individuals.<br />I'm not the first to notice, but this whole thing is getting suspiciously obvious.<br /><br />Am I saying "QUIT EVERYTHING, GET OFF THE GRID, BUILD A CABIN IN THE UNCHARTED WOODS OF MONTANA"? No, though that does sound challenging and fun (who's with me?!) though what I will tell you is to watch yourself out there, and try to view the long game that big interest groups are playing with the way you interact in their world. Don't be paranoid, but do be wary of the how and why behind why these new forced necessities are gaining power.<br /><br />But I'll have a big "I Told You So" ready for when barcode neck tattoos suddenly become a booming new fashion trend.<br /><br />Now I'm going to wait for a man in a black suit wearing sunglasses during the day to emerge from behind me and ask me to "take a walk" to an undisclosed location. Maybe there'll be puppies!BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-30341108543456882322014-03-18T20:30:00.003-07:002014-03-18T20:32:08.643-07:00NEWS: Religion's Role in Morality by Country<a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/03/a-map-of-gods-countries/284469/" target="_blank">http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/03/a-map-of-gods-countries/284469/</a><br />
<br />
Although the Atlantic has a spotty relationship in my book, this brief article citing a study by the Pew Research Center is extremely thought provoking and straightforward. Answering the single question, "Is it necessary to believe in God in order to be a moral person?" you can see clear divides in the world.<br />
<br />
My observations: I don't think they asked the question correctly in Japan, where the response would correlate with results as having half the people saying "yes" in a country where I only know of three actively religious people who believe in a single, most likely Western "God" figure. Many people here may believe, for example, that Buddhist teachings offer moral value, but that would not be tied to a centralized god. From this, I believe the answer was either lumped into religion, or they were asking participants in the survey who were more likely "actively religious", otherwise the results would have been less than 5%.<br />
<br />
Lol@America, Lol@China. Given their GDP, China is an outlier for saying "God and morals don't matter" and the US is high above the average for people saying "Faith in God is necessary for moral value."<br />
<br />
As a person who believes in the self-determinate value of people calibrating their own moral compasses, any country in the purple range depending on an old book, written back when slavery and stoning to death were popular, to determine moral values will be put further down on the list of "Countries I Want To Be In". Anyone else note the irony that countries reporting God as a moral necessity are some of the ones where death by stoning and slavery are still pretty common? Wow, nice job their gods.<br />
<br />
<span data-reactid=".9ci.1:3:1:$comment10153930239870475_48276423:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.0:2"> </span><i><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".9ci.1:3:1:$comment10153930239870475_48276423:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.0:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".9ci.1:3:1:$comment10153930239870475_48276423:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.0:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".9ci.1:3:1:$comment10153930239870475_48276423:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.0:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">tl;dr,
most religious texts are violent, antiquated self-help books on
morality written thousands of years ago when you or your god could
brutally murder someone for being wrong, while still espousing that it's
bad to kill people, and folks in many countries still guide their
morals from the stories in them.</span></span></span></i>BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-89109416075645623662014-03-18T17:01:00.000-07:002014-03-18T17:01:02.587-07:00Social Media? Schmocial... SchmediaMy summary when I think of Twitter and 90% of its users [think
impersonal, if ur mah friend ur kewl must be 1/10 shooting star ;D]:<br /> <br />
News / Famous people / "Famous people" / News about famous people /
Buildings, just the buildings (no people) / Places I don't go /
Organizations I don't actively support / GOOD MORNING OH HI LOOKATME
LOOKATME LOOKATME LOOKATME LOOKATME LOOKATME LOOKATME LOOKATME LOOKATME
LOOKATME LOOKATME <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/imontwitter?source=feed_text"><span class="_58cl">#</span><span class="_58cm">ImOnTwitter</span></a> <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/bored?source=feed_text"><span class="_58cl">#</span><span class="_58cm">bored</span></a> <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/spendallmytimeonelectronicdevicesbeingsocialbutsocialisinairquotes?source=feed_text"><span class="_58cl">#</span><span class="_58cm">SpendAllMyTimeOnElectronic<span class="text_exposed_show">DevicesBeingSocialButSocialIsInAirQuotes</span></span></a><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> <br /> My summary of most Facebook users' experience:<br /> +What they think, "Time to go and find some new information about the world and all of my friends in it!"<br />
+What they do--skim headlines, look at a (minority) of people's
activities that are more fun (than being on facebook) and feel envious,
and OH A PICTURE OF A DOGGIE.<br /> <br /> That said, I don't mind social
media, despite the daily droll most people put themselves through on
such sites, I think they have an over-arching power to raise awareness
and unite opinions through linking the masses on issues of importance.
We have access to more accurate information than ever before, even if
our political systems can't keep up with how quickly our values and
beliefs are evolving into a well-tempered, active thinking community.</span>BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-68336431646973098982014-03-16T20:39:00.000-07:002014-03-16T21:27:17.018-07:00A Brief Reflection on Nostalgia, Memory, and Knowing Yourself<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>"I remember
when I used to be really into nostalgia..." --Demetri Martin</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OuHLQ4kH33bEDgZuL-Zt1bMS7__0ziS7SdlG5QHvyDZa6LWLWcgi4aMLNCtr25XUuJwMgTageO9omfXDzNGV2KbNWB0K0Q4LPfFjLuBBShfm1cKePQlBu6YUE6H_ottGuGOmGyeD1yI/s1600/brent2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OuHLQ4kH33bEDgZuL-Zt1bMS7__0ziS7SdlG5QHvyDZa6LWLWcgi4aMLNCtr25XUuJwMgTageO9omfXDzNGV2KbNWB0K0Q4LPfFjLuBBShfm1cKePQlBu6YUE6H_ottGuGOmGyeD1yI/s1600/brent2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brooding angst +Blissful happiness = Brooangst + Blissappiness = Brooanblissness?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<br />
Shifting through some old documents, I found a series of
quotes I wrote down some six or seven years ago from music I was listening to
when I first started college at Willamette. Only band names and a few key lines
proved enough for a one-way ticket all aboard the nostalgia train. It's as if I
can see a different me through sub-recollection of feelings projected, just
through remembering music by Weezer, Tiger Army, Modest Mouse, Cake, and Bad
Religion--among others--where just the band name takes my mind back to when I
had the words and music floating through my (in)famous headphones (pic, above) constantly.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>"If I can
touch it,</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>I can destroy it,</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>if it's imaginable
to some degree,</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>I can become it,</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>like a hungry
turning vortex that just flickers to existence,</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>consuming bits and
pieces until I'm finally extinguished"</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>(</i><span style="font-style: normal;">Marked</span><i>,<b> Bad Religion</b></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>)</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Songs tap into mental cavities we sometimes can't feel
genuine in accessing for ourselves, and (good) songs offer an external
perspective to what's internal, granting us another lens through which to see
our feelings and thoughts. With music as a personal experience, we can think of
(good) music as a personified commentary on the self. This is why we constantly
relate ourselves to situational lyrics we hear, it's a way of looking at yourself
through music. Do this enough, and you will build a subconscious image of
yourself through music. Remembering the nostalgia of that 'you' constructed
through music is what I'm talking about.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Message read
on the bathroom wall says, 'I don't feel at all like I fall'</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>And we're losing
all touch, losing all touch, building a desert"</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>(</i><span style="font-style: normal;">Custom Concern</span><i>, <b>Modest Mouse</b></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>)</i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMzqxqo_PLaqP6W1-jHk4B5cR45qEWm96v6KvAx_pH04FYbXw6budfzmQmQDcX0_sYaYzDYDBJ4hLC4cc2YI470O1gXqlAv8iiuP7GoRWx7Kdzu1PdJU6kBd9ul13KayANr55LvzIiho/s1600/brent1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMzqxqo_PLaqP6W1-jHk4B5cR45qEWm96v6KvAx_pH04FYbXw6budfzmQmQDcX0_sYaYzDYDBJ4hLC4cc2YI470O1gXqlAv8iiuP7GoRWx7Kdzu1PdJU6kBd9ul13KayANr55LvzIiho/s1600/brent1.jpg" height="240" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deep thoughts filtered through flippant moodiness, it's so readily apparent you can smell it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><i> </i></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Memories are vessels of success, regret, and randomly
accessed images, all in disorganized snapshots that can render pictures of an
emotion and will be seen under the scrutinizing lens of Hindsight20/20. For
this there is no proper response, though an appreciation of how far you've come
and generating a scope of growth are recommended. If you find something warm,
hold onto it in the moment, past and present.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>"As soon as
your born you start dying</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>So you might as
well have a good time"</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>(</i><span style="font-style: normal;">Sheep Go to Heaven</span><i>, <b>Cake</b></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>)</i></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4ZOmuvl7xh2UdKH41cx5dvBpLmxs8L__V1SO4Cmc1LJ6Fc4g-Qv6bnCEI8pD59K36yhLX3L25SqgKZU7iTQdmcR3faj4KmMRu1_5d1eHGTiFOnV4knQQDPBxr-BNsZBuOEM853z3HaQ/s1600/brent4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4ZOmuvl7xh2UdKH41cx5dvBpLmxs8L__V1SO4Cmc1LJ6Fc4g-Qv6bnCEI8pD59K36yhLX3L25SqgKZU7iTQdmcR3faj4KmMRu1_5d1eHGTiFOnV4knQQDPBxr-BNsZBuOEM853z3HaQ/s1600/brent4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just imagine: you could be having <i>this</i> much fun finding yourself.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I feel like most people don't make time for memories, there
is always something in front of them that needs more focus, and it can be
unsettling to look back. However, doing so is how you continue to know
yourself and gain perspective.<br />Take time to be you--most people are too scared
to.<br />For a while, stay quiet and still.<br />Leave the electronic behind, go outside,
and walk off the beaten path.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>"It burns
like a fire in the night</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>a glow that rises
and becomes the starlite</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Under the trees,
in the night</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>You'll find it
there</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>In the space
between heartbeats</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Where the whole
world disappears"</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>(</i><span style="font-style: normal;">Forever Fades Away</span><i>,<b> Tiger Army</b></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>)</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3nSM111_pGXTi5G_9MrRlo-8i7OMQ71c1PQ62ReT_dL6LU-0fWU8sWZ4n21NVwb8U9wYBtHUiY5nnC7LdFBXMGurtgYOAlCXA1IaSsubBgyPlI9CvuN0F9Bm-m3cD80WI33yxis2vzo/s1600/brent3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3nSM111_pGXTi5G_9MrRlo-8i7OMQ71c1PQ62ReT_dL6LU-0fWU8sWZ4n21NVwb8U9wYBtHUiY5nnC7LdFBXMGurtgYOAlCXA1IaSsubBgyPlI9CvuN0F9Bm-m3cD80WI33yxis2vzo/s1600/brent3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've have yet to find myself, but in this place is the closest I get.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
PSA: You never know where or when nostalgia may happen to
you, so always be prepared to quell the OH SHI- with a few deep breaths of
things far gone, and also make time to languish in the warmth of positive past
reflection, being happy just to have lived a life worth remembering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>"In fact we
didn't know what we were doing half of the time</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>We were so sure of
ourselves and drove a long way through life</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Memories make me
want to go back there, back there"</i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>(</i><span style="font-style: normal;">Memories</span><i> [how perfect], <b>Weezer</b></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>)</i></span></div>
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BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-56001717218598918032014-02-12T18:04:00.001-08:002014-02-12T18:04:26.454-08:00NEWS (Editorial): On Gun Violence and the Illusion of Representative DemocracyI can't believe this was the sentence that happened in my head reading through the news in the morning, it's disheartening, alarming, and enough to make you spit:<br />
<br />
<i><b>"How many school shootings do we have to have before something is seriously done about gun violence in America?"</b></i><br />
<br />
That was what popped in my head going over a recent summary of shootings: 13 school shootings in the first 6 weeks of the year 2014 alone, that have in total led to 28 deaths since the Newton shooting in December 2012. (via the Guardian US)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFtPe0ErL__9K-1kcE1NKxgzyynybJYUOKif2gWUEx8no1_HNXcJlL-KGD0KInO0DCPMY9EVecP4d17K20Zv-B7PYRwswiJDj82Q_m6svmlLHQvd5cJvKoGwsHbLD_PXLfzzs0yS-nhi4/s1600/sandyshooting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFtPe0ErL__9K-1kcE1NKxgzyynybJYUOKif2gWUEx8no1_HNXcJlL-KGD0KInO0DCPMY9EVecP4d17K20Zv-B7PYRwswiJDj82Q_m6svmlLHQvd5cJvKoGwsHbLD_PXLfzzs0yS-nhi4/s1600/sandyshooting.jpg" height="240" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I fear hearts have gone cold to the issue; the violence has become a commonplace staple of media in recent times, desensitizing listeners when <i>"another school shooting" </i>comes up.<br />
<br />
Am I saying we need to pass legislation immediately, such as Australia did in 1996? No, I'm not even advocating that far (though it'd be nice). I am still stunned to think that this (the least effective of all time) Congress couldn't even pass <b>measures to prevent the purchase of assault grade firearms without background checks</b> for fear of what it would do to the next election cycle.<br />
<br />
Politics have become so polarized and invested in private interest that they can no longer do what's right, <i>even when 92% of the country agreed to a need for change</i> because what we see now is that the will of the people has <b>little to no effect on the representative body of government</b> past what is deemed important for elections.<br />
<br />
Even with outpouring support for altering gun laws, the watered down bills that came out had been so altered with frivolously added provisions (such as an abusive "anonymous" revision in agriculture paid for by Monsanto) that the final result was no change to help prevent firearms from entering in the wrong hands.<br />
<br />
Quite the contrary, <b>gun sales increased</b> from the hype around the legislation. Now there are more guns out there and we are no closer to managing who might use them. This is a failure of bureaucracy that can only be seen the result of political infighting and mutually beneficial corruption.<br />
<br />
I wish there was some better note to end this on, but this has been a failure by no other other words, and it should make people more wary of the role they believe their opinion plays in the game of governance.<br />
<br />
http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/feb/12/school-shootings-newtown-study-gun-violence?CMP=BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-23175499201402160152014-02-09T16:38:00.003-08:002014-02-09T16:38:39.096-08:00NEWS (Editorial): Is This Really News? And Random Celebrity had an Affair with the Apocalypse Tomorrow!That above headline seems like the sort of thing media outlets are writing constantly nowadays. It's hard to tell what is to be considered real news anymore, when my top 3 headlines from what are thought to be reliable news sources (Time, Washington Post, New York Times) are about Flappy Bird, a lady imprisoned for "trolling herself" (read, actually impersonating others and making slanderous/lewd remarks to family members), and a wine that cats can drink.<br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKjEOExtMjwrlrRkv9UFGzL_-bQGvKfvS7WQb8SheyOw04Ln0AAuhm5-Z94kxQjp8NWRwTh3iKu_UMN_D1herttXcSaZ7Trk9MvZBUId__ZOj5RFBo1aOd12BGDHSR4SuGYsiWmPBs5k/s1600/fakenews.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKjEOExtMjwrlrRkv9UFGzL_-bQGvKfvS7WQb8SheyOw04Ln0AAuhm5-Z94kxQjp8NWRwTh3iKu_UMN_D1herttXcSaZ7Trk9MvZBUId__ZOj5RFBo1aOd12BGDHSR4SuGYsiWmPBs5k/s1600/fakenews.jpg" height="142" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hide yo kids!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Sure it's a bit humorous, but headlines like this are being written as clickbait, a vile new word, where websites just write whatever will make you go there to get you click, and in addition their spinning the content of the news to make it sound more incredible or interesting than the true story is.<br />I think it was last week that MSNBC interrupted a former congressman speaking about the NSA to bring "breaking news" of an over-famed teen being an imbecile.<br /><br />News is being overwritten, and it's all starting to remind me of that old "E!" channel (entertainment news) that used to run 24-7 gossip blips.<br />Add in some of the just plain false headlines from photoshopped photos passed off as real and we start to need a news channel to review all the other news channels to know what to believe now (And they are Cracked and The Daily Show, most definitely). Even when major media gets railed as fools, they are still getting attention.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDoSCGwTFaR8JDI-JS1gyKbGKoBGTu-lw_wGwlOlYbWzLXJH1P5pwfq8KlHBp3ruyElMTpWTMWele9sOEoOJR4lgip3L-YRt8MT0bo2nTU3YofnjvwkYj77F4K0vxZbHDSDgFgPY-0-A/s1600/fakenewsjetpack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDoSCGwTFaR8JDI-JS1gyKbGKoBGTu-lw_wGwlOlYbWzLXJH1P5pwfq8KlHBp3ruyElMTpWTMWele9sOEoOJR4lgip3L-YRt8MT0bo2nTU3YofnjvwkYj77F4K0vxZbHDSDgFgPY-0-A/s1600/fakenewsjetpack.jpg" height="106" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Fox & Friends</i> reported that the LAPD were going to purchase $1billion dollars in jetpacks. Their source for this outrageous breaking story? The tabloid paper "Weekly World". Wow. No wonder it sounded so silly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Between the never-ending battle for ratings and clips views, there's also an escalation of the severity news intoned by news. What FOX headline doesn't end with "... and will destroy America!" at the end. I think they're popping more dolts a day, just to illicit some crazy response, as the channels still masquerade as serious news, but the people are starting to realize the difference.<br /><br />I know there are many more reliable sources, like (un)surprisingly PBS, and a number of decent news blogs out there, but the majors that get the most coverage are really failing to bring a greater range of domestic stories and international coverage.<br /><br />We'll see where the trend takes media, however I'll still be here to post what I feel is worthwhile for folks to know.BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-11888388748200233672014-02-06T18:31:00.003-08:002014-02-06T20:32:05.959-08:00NEWS: On Increasing Minimum Wage, and the Crafted Illusion of Job LossNEWS: Is it any small wonder that the richest people yowl high-pitched complaints at (also rich) politicians about not raising minimum wage? But try and see past the single example of McD's, and think more broadly on why this idea of raising minimum wage comes off as contentious in the first place.<br />
<br />
<br />
http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2014/02/raising-the-minimum-wage-a-mcdonalds-killer-not-a-mcjobs-killer/283638/<br />
<br />
This new study by the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago has economists saying the claims of job loss are over-inflated, which comes as no surprise when you think of who stands to lose out.<br />
<br />
Here's a hint: it's just the top business people with the most money, who'd rather keep things as they are instead of adjusting to inflation and the current demands on the poorest of the poor in modern society.<br />
<br />
However, the crazy, absolutely insane part is that these avaricious yet monetarily influential people concoct a false debate around increasing the minimum wage, funding and inflating findings of falsified studies, getting pundits to rail on about the negative repercussions that will hit small businesses (what is a small business? Answer: an undefined buzz word). Then the media riles up _people who think they are middle-class_ and *convince them to shame the poor, minimum wage workers* who are much closer to them then they are to wealthy CEOs.<br />
<br />
Now with studies like this one out of Illinois, they should not be able to play the "jobs" card when refusing to increase worker wages. Hopefully this will reduce it more to the obvious--the pernicious greed and resistance of change (to adapt to inflation or progress with society) that is keeping wages so low for many full-time workers.<br />
<br />
As if a global corporation like McDonald's couldn't find a way to make up for treating their employees to just a partial share of the massive profits the company makes.<br />
<br />
This gentrification of ideas about the poor being lazy and not moving up because of lack of hard-work--primarily supported by anecdotal evidence--is the most backwards of arguments. Look at the United States GDP, CEO wages, and lowest paid worker wage comparisons and how wildly they differ from other countries. Yet, political rabble-rousing has people convinced that one of the richest countries on Earth will fall apart if they pay their lowest income workers--who often work a lot harder than the people that shame them--a decent living wage. Some of the states that 'go red' on debates like this have the lowest contributing incomes and the most widespread hunger problems. It's as if so many who perpetuate the debate don't realize they are being fed spoonfuls of bullshit, and still take it as an excuse to feel elevated above other people.<br />
<br />
Sadly, even if those who echo whatever they hear from biased sources on job loss with the increase of minimum wage COULD BE converted to think more broadly about the social issues of the poor as seen from this economic viewpoint, IT STILL wouldn't make a difference when you consider how little an influence the ideas of the citizenry have on modern politics.<br />
<br />
To do this, it would still take a massive dethroning of private business's money in politics, though at least a study like this narrows their available excuses for not endorsing doing the right thing, compensating their workers more significantly for their contribution.<br />
<br />
I hope that through small bits of progress in states insisting an increase the in lowest paid wage, it will reign in big corporation to work more within their means on a level that values the workers that are churning out the profit for them, as well as diversify the market for up-and-coming other restaurants to play in the game.BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-63210287650772034282014-01-22T16:26:00.002-08:002014-01-22T17:02:02.271-08:00NEWS: Former Virginia Governor and Wife Accept 140,805.46 in "Gifts." This is What They Should Have Got Instead!NEWS: Former Virginia Governor and Wife Accept S140,805.46 in "Gifts"<br />
Subheadline: Grroossss.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnAgbAaUixnmsv5f-Aw13korHLU3vBhuuh5A_BwBEDdqp0TJQKix9S6-nuhHYzoZWEWaWYMPaC3MmPd99lngdmETAa5aFBNWSXdekQ9ATUuRESVyAomoEeHjQarT7PkHUIvTSUyL-Hj0/s1600/richassholes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnAgbAaUixnmsv5f-Aw13korHLU3vBhuuh5A_BwBEDdqp0TJQKix9S6-nuhHYzoZWEWaWYMPaC3MmPd99lngdmETAa5aFBNWSXdekQ9ATUuRESVyAomoEeHjQarT7PkHUIvTSUyL-Hj0/s1600/richassholes.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Pictured Above: Rich Assholes.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
==Read on to the bottom to see how I would have got with 140k in bribery!<br />
<br />
Even America is no stranger to corruption. Recently compiled data shows that it is lower here than in other countries, because openly accepting bribery isn't a posh thing to flaunt. In nations with higher rates of corruption, like India and Mexico, you may need to bribe low-ranking public officials just to receive basic state services in a timely manner. There are still deals here in the States behind back doors, both legally and illegally, that link the corporate business world to the political sphere.<br />
<br />
This recent case is more extreme than a few slipped bills, and will hopefully bring some focus to how business and politicians play the game of getting rich and staying in power while the needs of the people the serve are ignored.<br />
<br />
The former governor and his rich-ass wife though... this is just... boring. They accepted bribes from a wealthy businessman's political leaning in the form of, just, stuff. Dresses, shoes, purses, and a bunch of golf gear. It is *difficult* to spend that much money on things. These were just trifles with name brands, and makes me despise the pointlessness of the brand market even more, as buying anything from "top" brands is nothing more than some sort of masturbatory ritual for the super rich.<br />
<br />
And these were some boring rich people.<br />
<br />
IF IT WAS ME, and I was eventually going to be indicted over getting free stuff, I would have done *way better* with my wishlist.<br />
<br />
<br />
First off,<br />
+BALL PIT: 20'x20'. I'm going to need, say, 30,000 balls. Oh yeah!<br />
...dang, that's only $4,300. Still got $135,700 or so left...<br />
<br />
+LIFE TIME SUPPLY OF NUTELLA: That's about 1,000 jars of the stuff = $5,250<br />
...haven't even broke below 130k (*are you kidding me!?*)<br />
<br />
+ZORB BALL TEAM SUITS: Ten "Zorbs" = $15,000<br />
<br />
+LEVITATING HOVER SCOOTER: Built by Hammacher Schlemmer, maker of Roombas = $17,000<br />
<br />
+JETPACK: $20,000 for a high-functioning model, when hovering everywhere gets to be somewhat of a snooze.<br />
<br />
+A FREAKING TANK: Fully-armored, no ammunition, working order: $60,000 with your International Tank Driver's license.<br />
<br />
+A SWAROVSKI CRYSTAL ENCRUSTED HELLO KITTY FIGURE: To put on the dashboard of the tank = $8,000<br />
<br />
I still have about $7,000 left over...<br />
42,000 FEET OF BUBBLEWRAP: Est. $6,800~<br />
<br />
And that's STILL enough money to go to an elementary school and buy a donut for every kid there.....<br />
<br />
<br />
LET'S REVIEW: I now own a 400'sq. ball pit, a lifetime supply of Nutella, a full team of Zorb! suits, a levitating hover scooter, a jetpack, a FREAKING TANK, crystal Hello Kitty, about 8 miles of bubblewrap, AND I STILL bought donuts for children, making me better than these two people.<br />
<br />
IN SUMMARY: *Fuck these guys*, if you're going to be corrupt and takes lots of money, at least make it exciting.BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-29762668095837763862014-01-08T19:53:00.003-08:002014-02-12T18:06:58.077-08:00THE BEST 58 ROCK SONGS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15PsxX6AskZrq8ViLwDdf8cY5MlRUWTDe56qcs6Gov75MxT0m3I93YnYjSmpbV7DGf3ONSkpPYzwDgSMZ9G3qSz7oMQrvDy4f2gXl2vZrnHVZw-uH0u7w0rC6wO4RDO6SMBzE2sS5Ix8/s1600/guitardark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15PsxX6AskZrq8ViLwDdf8cY5MlRUWTDe56qcs6Gov75MxT0m3I93YnYjSmpbV7DGf3ONSkpPYzwDgSMZ9G3qSz7oMQrvDy4f2gXl2vZrnHVZw-uH0u7w0rC6wO4RDO6SMBzE2sS5Ix8/s1600/guitardark.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>THE BEST <span style="font-size: large;">58</span> ROCK SONGS </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>an entirely biased list of resonant personal favorites</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>from the alternative and Japanese rock scenes*</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by Brent Danley Jones</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I've been working on a project where I compile the rock music that for me stands out as "best" from style to sound, energy to feeling to nostalgic feelings of lust and loss. I encourage you to start to write a list of your own, for whatever musical taste you have, as an expression of what music means to you.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
ロック<span class="st">・</span>ミュージックしか聞けない僕はTOP<span style="font-size: large;">58</span>リストを書きました。</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> </i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i>One of the few areas I'll ever express strong opinion with little compromise comes from my preferences in music, particularly rock. This list is not documenting the pinnacle of all musical creation, nor is it saying songs outside the list aren't worthy. Through many years of killing my ear drums, these are the songs--for me--that have swayed my taste ideals in rock music, creating memorable lyrics and music I'll never grow tired of hearing. This symposium of songs pulls from my two heaviest influences: the 90's alternative rock scene and its logical derivatives, and the Japanese rock scene--the two of which are very closely tied in style and sound. I could have these 57 on repeat without skipping and drive for nine days straight.<br />
<br />
*they are _mostly_ rock songs, in that two are dance-techno driven, and another is atmospheric instrumental. Find 'em and win a not-prize! </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
First, the English songs, listed.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Then, the Japanese songs, listed. 日本語の歌は、英語の後で書いてあります。</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
After that is the master list split with both languages.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Following those, there are honorable mentions of bands and albums that stand out as a unit. Lastly, a small list of recommendations, so you too can hear the best sounds, creativity, and energy that music has made.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b> THE BEST, in English</b></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b> </b></h3>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Shimmer - Fuel<br />
<br />
Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind<br />
<br />
Absolutely (Story of a Girl) - Ninedays<br />
<br />
Fearing the Weekend - The Scene East<br />
<br />
Orange Shirt - Discovery<br />
<br />
Look At Us - Sabrina Paris<br />
<br />
Memory - Sugarcult<br />
<br />
Motorcycle Drive-by - Third Eye Blind<br />
<br />
One More Time - Daft Punk<br />
<br />
Leaving Light - Talkdemonic<br />
<br />
Sasafras Roots - Green Day<br />
<br />
Only In Dreams - Weezer<br />
<br />
Promise - Eve 6<br />
<br />
Laundry Room - The Avett Brothers<br />
<br />
Just Like Heaven - The Cure<br />
<br />
More Than A Feeling - Boston <br />
<br />
Debaser - Pixies<br />
<br />
Feeling This - Blink 182<br />
<br />
Banditos -The Refreshments<br />
<br />
12:51 - The Strokes<br />
<br />
Elevate Me Later - Pavement<br />
<br />
Looking For A Cure - Planet Smashers<br />
<br />
A Favor House Atlantic - Coheed & Cambria<br />
<br />
God & Suicide - Blitzen Trapper<br />
<br />
On the Bus Mall - The Decemberists<b></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b> THE BEST, in Japanese</b></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b> </b></h3>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Hikari, Saikou - amazarashi 光、再考</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Made. Jyounetsu Mix - Mass of the Fermenting Dregs まで。情熱ミックス<br />
<br />
Underground - High Voltage<br />
<br />
Hello - Supercar<br />
<br />
Yoake no Uta - Eastern Youth 夜明けの歌<br />
<br />
Love Song - Sambomaster ラッブ<span class="st">・</span>ソング<br />
<br />
99.974℃ - Tricot <br />
<br />
Jack Nicolson - Bloodthirsty Butchers<br />
<br />
Kore Kurai de Utau - Handsome Kenya これくらいで歌う<br />
<br />
Hybrid Rainbow - The Pillows<br />
<br />
Boku no Suki na Kimi he - Sambomaster 僕の好きな君へ<br />
<br />
Koyoi no Tsuki no You ni - Elephant-kashimashi 今宵の月のように<br />
<br />
Ride on Shooting Star - The Pillows<br />
<br />
Ai toka Yume toka Koi toka Sex toka - samezame 愛とか夢とか恋とかSEXとか<br />
<br />
Planet Magic - N'Shukagawa Boys<br />
<br />
Melodic Storm - Straightener<br />
<br />
Runner - High Voltage<br />
<br />
Kage no Hito - The Mass Missile かげの人<br />
<br />
Skeleton Liar - The Pillows<br />
<br />
Niji - Ellegarden 虹<br />
<br />
Chii sa na Koi no Uta - Mongol800 小さな恋の歌<br />
<br />
Squall - Mongol800<br />
<br />
Thank You My Twilight - The Pillows<br />
<br />
Kono Mama Jya, Kono Mama De - The Mass Missile このままじゃ、このままで<br />
<br />
Shirushi - Mr. Children しるし<br />
<br />
NO - Negoto<br />
<br />
Funny Bunny - The Pillows<br />
<br />
She, Her - Noodles<br />
<br />
Migite - Ellegarden 右手<br />
<br />
Tsumasaki - Oreskaband 爪先<br />
<br />
Morninglow - Heavenstamp<br />
<br />
Scarecrow - The Pillows<br />
<br />
Condom wo Tsukenai Kono Yuki wo Aishite yo - samezame <span class="st">コンドームをつけないこの勇気を愛してよ</span><br />
<br />
Hey Lucifer - Smelly Sox<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b> THE BEST <span style="font-size: large;">58</span>, of Music All-together, Ranked</b></h3>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
BEST SONGS EVER (English & Japanese)<br />
<br />
1 Shimmer - Fuel<br />
<br />
2 Hikari, Saikou - amazarashi<br />
<br />
3 Made. Jyounetsu Mix - Mass of the Fermenting Dregs<br />
<br />
4 Semi-charmed Life - Third Eye Blind<br />
<br />
5 Absolutely (Story of a Girl) - Ninedays<br />
<br />
6 Underground - High Voltage<br />
<br />
7 Hello - Supercar<br />
<br />
8 Yoake no Uta - Eastern Youth<br />
<br />
9 Fearing the Weekend - The Scene East<br />
<br />
10 Love Song - Sambomaster<br />
<br />
11 Orange Shirt - Discovery<br />
<br />
12 99.974℃ - Tricot<br />
<br />
13 Look At Us - Sabrina Paris<br />
<br />
14 Jack Nicolson - Bloodthirsty Butchers<br />
<br />
15 Memory - Sugar Cult<br />
<br />
16 Motorcycle Drive-by - Third Eye Blind<br />
<br />
17 Kore kurai de Utau - Handsome Kenya<br />
<br />
18 One More Time - Daft Punk<br />
<br />
19 Hybrid Rainbow - The Pillows<br />
<br />
20 Boku no Suki na Kimi he - Sambomaster<br />
<br />
21 Leaving Light - Talkdemonic<br />
<br />
22 Koyoi no Tsuki no you ni - Elephant-kashimashi<br />
<br />
23 Sasafras Roots - Greenday<br />
<br />
24 Only In Dreams- Weezer<br />
<br />
25 Ride On Shooting Star - The Pillows<br />
<br />
26 Promise - Eve 6<br />
<br />
27 Laundry Room - The Avett Brothers<br />
<br />
28 Just Like Heaven - The Cure<br />
<br />
29 Ai toka Yume toka Koi toka Sex toka - samezame<br />
<br />
30 Planet Magic - N'Shukugawa Boys<br />
<br />
31 Melodic Storm - Straightener<br />
<br />
32 Runner - High Voltage<br />
<br />
33 Kage no Hito - The Mass Missile<br />
<br />
34 Skeleton Liar - The Pillows<br />
<br />
35 Debaser - Pixies<br />
<br />
36 Niji - Ellegarden<br />
<br />
37 More Than a Feeling - Boston<br />
<br />
38 Feeling This - Blink 182<br />
<br />
39 Chii sa na Koi no Uta - Mongol800<br />
<br />
40 Squall - Mongol800<br />
<br />
41 Thank You My Twilight - The Pillows<br />
<br />
42 Banditos -The Refreshments<br />
<br />
43 12:51 - The Strokes<br />
<br />
44 Elevate Me Later - Pavement<br />
<br />
45 Looking For A Cure - Planet Smashers<br />
<br />
46 A Favor House Atlantic - Coheed & Cambria<br />
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47 Shirushi - Mr. Children<br />
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48 NO - Negoto<br />
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49 Funny Bunny - The Pillows<br />
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50 She, Her - Noodles<br />
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51 Migite - Ellegarden<br />
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52 Tsumasaki - Oreskaband<br />
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53 Morninglow - Heavenstamp<br />
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54 God & Suicide - Blitzen Trapper<br />
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55 Scarecrow - The Pillows<br />
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56 On the Bus Mall - The Decemberists<br />
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57 Condom wo Tsukenai - samezame<br />
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58 Hey Lucifer - Smelly Sox</div>
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<b>Honorable Bands</b></div>
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<b>Envy</b> - The Japanese Post-rock kings of pain, fury, and elation. No stronger performing group I've ever seen. Listening to their songs is not enough, but a night spent with Envy on stage will never be forgotten.</div>
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<b>Explosions in the Sky</b> - Not one song can define this expansive instrumental tour in melodic beauty and powerful energy out of West Texas.<b> </b></div>
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<b>Foo Fighters</b> - The most defining rock group. At the middle of rock and all its formations, Foo Fighters forms the base and center of what I consider to be the purest form of solid rock.</div>
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<b>The Offspring</b> - The band responsible for blending pop, rock, and harder sensibilities into one of the most successful, listenable brands of rock still very unique to the group. A true titan of music.</div>
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<b>Green Day</b> - The most formative group for me, the first I *cassette* I ever owned. Even though the years brought change, so much music started from these three guys singing coyly about the life in front of their blurry eyes.</div>
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<b>The Barenaked Ladies</b> - The first band I ever considered myself a fan of. The right mix of musical sensibilities and light-hearted good spirit.<br />
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<b>Honorable Albums</b></div>
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Welcome Joy - Cave Singers<br />
Hot Fuss - The Killers<br />
LP - Discovery<br />
<i>Self-titled -</i> American Football<br />
All Day - Girl Talk<br />
Endless Fantasy - Anamanaguchi <br />
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<b>You Need to Hear This: A Mini Playlist to Take Home</b></div>
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<b> </b> </div>
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Fearing the Weekend - The Scene East<br />
Jack Nicolson - Bloodthirsty Butchers (esp. video on youtube)<br />
Kore Kurai de Utau - Handsome Kenya (esp. video on youtube)<br />
Hikari, Saikou - amazarashi<br />
Orange Shirt - Dsicovery<br />
Absolutely (Story of a Girl) - Ninedays<br />
Laundry Room - Avett Brothers<br />
Looking For A Cure - The Planet Smashers<br />
99.974℃ - Tricot (esp. video on youtube)<br />
All Day - Girl Talk (Album) </div>
BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-47181854863923770042013-12-17T21:32:00.003-08:002013-12-17T21:32:49.619-08:00[Thinking]: JAPAN & SKIRTS: What, Why, and "Cold Isn't It?"<i>On the short length of skirts even in winter months here in Japan.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXNc65hFjMjXGpZXr2ZxJmT0U5w8LkVcJ5tUXzy_BgDwR7a6zyY1eAEHpp3QCiPcOFLp6-nvT3fwXobRo_9snko8inB7sLKNWgAgI97VMDFVS6sj0P0GKve0ELt5oJQ6L-HFiXVVtxnY/s1600/toocold!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXNc65hFjMjXGpZXr2ZxJmT0U5w8LkVcJ5tUXzy_BgDwR7a6zyY1eAEHpp3QCiPcOFLp6-nvT3fwXobRo_9snko8inB7sLKNWgAgI97VMDFVS6sj0P0GKve0ELt5oJQ6L-HFiXVVtxnY/s400/toocold!.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Every year, on the train platforms early in the morning or late at night, I am befuddled and bemused befreakedout to see girls, women, and ladies wearing skirts and *thin* tights in temperatures below freezing. And I'm not just talking about a few, I mean at times a majority of people I see. And with the stigma against weighing more than most breeds of large dog still in effect, these ladies have little-to-no flesh on their legs to retain warmth. And every year, I--bundled in two sweaters and jeans--ask myself the same question... <b>WHY?!</b><br />
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Do they do it for fashion? Is it expected of them? Is looking "just pretty good, decent" worth freezing? The answer is yes to all of them. You'd think they want to keep a few of the important things up there warmer. Or that they'd at least have on long jackets. But no! Women over here are apparently immune to 'temperature'. Oh the irony when they wear the "don't get sick" face masks but go out with half their body exposed and one shade of pale away from turning blue.<br />
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But here's the thing--actually, they've been ready for this for a long time, and have long since killed off all the nerve endings in their legs. Why? Because rules regarding uniforms in middle school and high school. Although a lot of my students wear jersey suits all throughout the school day, most schools _<i>mandate</i>_ that girls come to school in their uniform, meaning girls _<i>must</i>_ wear skirts with socks below the knee as they walk or bike to school, without exception or regard to temperature. *<b>Most all do</b>* however wear gym shorts or jersey shorts under their skirt, so they get some mild insulation, but you still wouldn't catch me going out like that (for a number of reasons). I think there should be a cold weather alternative, I'm in three layers and feel colder just looking at these girls on their way to school.<br />
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This isn't without its own bit of ridiculousness added on top like a crazy frozen cherry. Uniform skirts all are meant to be worn at the waist and extend just past the knees. However, social protocol for almost all girls is--by default--to roll the waist and pull them up so the end of the skirt sits halfway up the thigh, sometimes higher. This means that, just to walk to school, they are *<b>doing something that purposefully makes their body temperatures lizard-like, just because they feel like they should be fashionable</b>* which starts to explain a vicious cycle of expectations and short skirts and dead leg nerve endings.<br />
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So there's the answer to my question of why so many older girls and women continue to go out in near nothing with frost on the ground. They've been trained from a young age to accept frostbite as a way of life, and take it to the next level themselves to "look good" by societal standard and freeze their butts off.<br />
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This may also help explain why 80% of conversations in Japan during the winter consist entirely of "<i>samui ne</i>" ("cold, isn't it?), as they haven't been trained or allowed to put on more clothes when they feel cold, so they just have to deal with it and say <i>samui ne</i> one thousand times a year in mutual commiseration.BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-56193155511738380662013-12-17T21:27:00.001-08:002013-12-17T21:27:56.268-08:00............................................========================================<br />
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...........................................BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-796442846704776576.post-44322853650794435792013-09-29T21:08:00.001-07:002013-09-29T21:29:28.676-07:00Socrates Smith and the Hood of the 'Hood <i>Socrates Smith was a thinker and doer for the people, using his outstanding grasp of the world and all its concepts to expose the falseness of the evil people around us. He works tirelessly as a LPIofP, a Local Private Investigator of People, for the people, completely uncompensated with only his pride as payment. With his extreme intellect he outwits and stuns would-be bad guys, befuddling them with his brawny brain and righting the wrong for the benefit of all.</i><br />
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<i>(Actually, Socrates Smith is an insane asshole who thinks he is too smart and takes "concerned citizen" to its extremes and everyone hates him and thinks he's ugly.)</i><br />
<i><br />Anyway, here's a day in the life of LPIofP, Socrates Smith.</i><br />
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It wouldn't be long now.<br />
I had been awaiting Sneaky Dan for what seemed like days. Of course, my clocks always fast so I never know the time, but I can feel the anticipation mounting. The hairs on the back of my neck prick at every slight movement and cat yowl. Garbage left to the curb reeks but I endure it, knowing that when the moment is right it's the last place that sneak will see me coming from.<br />
S. Dan outgrew his shoes around this neighborhood a long time ago. People have been relying on him because there's no one else around doing what he does. It's his hood, and he knows it. He's been leaving guys hungry and dolls begging for more. But he's been getting too high and mighty around here, and the weakness is starting to show. As an LPIoP, I, Socrates Smith, knew it was time to get the sauce on Sneaky D. and disseminate the evidence to the people.<br />
The only way to take down a sly dog like Dan was to take out the bricks from the bottom of his own ivory tower, and send it into a topple like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.<br />
But actually make it fall down, too.<br />
He's always late like a trademark. It's his way of setting the scene, making sure you're desperate for what he's got by the time he's there. I'd been playing his game. Putting in the order and waiting. He puts on a good front to be sure, and he makes his tips flashing that quick smile. When he knows he has you though, watch how fast that grin sinks and he's hitting you up for your fix. The deals stop coming in, and he knows he has you hooked. That's when he gets sloppy, lazy. His boss is pulling the strings, but he's still making off like the upper crust of a middle man stretching out of place.<br />
I heard the rumble of a V4 bouncing back from cul-de-sac and the unmistakable stutter of his ride. A beige Honda Accord kept a low profile, made it easy to slip in anywhere. Once I pounced, he would be going nowhere fast because the people would know the fault of what he was doing, would see through the thin veil complacency on the product had lured them into.<br />
There's nothing in this for me. I am for the people, and for truth. Socrates Smith wants nothing more than the truth.<br />
I swear my heart beat fast, my senses were piqued, and I could hear the banana peels rotting under my feet. The odor of coffee grounds and someone else's dog droppings were seeping into my skin, though I didn't even notice. Cellphone camera in hand, this was going to be the exposure that purified this neighborhood all over again.<br />
Then something that didn't fit my calculations--a sudden turn. The common path was interrupted when Sneaky Dan and his rumbly ride made a sudden stop at the other end of the sac. The poor dame. I saw Snee-Dee leak out of his driver's side door and sidle up the step to deliver a box of medical malady to the lady across the street. I cringed, bit my lip and took in the overripe odor of lawn trimmings. I was helpless to stop the exchange, but I knew she was a victim of him too; like me, like us all. But when the S.D. trudged back to his whip, he was on the way over, floodlights illuminating the shadow of my trash can but my figure remained hidden among the shadows.<br />
It was I, Socrates Smith, who had him in the headlights.<br />
Sweat poured down my grimy complexion. How long had I been here anyway? I was feeling light headed but punched myself in the knees to refocus in the mission at hand and make the pins and prickles subside. Sneaky Dan strode right up, smug as ever, knowing he had what I wanted. I waited until the last minute, until I could smell his alluring scent, though I wouldn't submit--not this time. He was mine. I jumped when he was so close I could taste the cheese, flash going of as ten pictures took themselves and would bust him for the last time.<br />
"Hey!"<br />
"FUCK!"<br />
"Sneaky Dan! Do you not consider the feelings of all beings? Do you not see how your actions slow the spinning of our very being? How you leave people either yet to be satisfied or wanting more, all so you can live your fetid existence amongst us as the demi-god of temptation. I have the proof now. You have done enough, and no more wrongs shall happen from this night on, leave this place!"<br />
His fear was palpable as he screamed, "Why the fuck are you in garbage you crazy asshole!?"<br />
"Because you keep bringing the pizzas late" I riposted, with a flourish of camera phone, snapping another quick series of penetrating shots, "and sometimes they're a little cold!"<br />
"Fuck you! I don't give a shit, but the fuck if I'm coming back here you sack of shit! Fuck you in the garbage just to be an asshole, fuck! Get your own fucking pizza, you're insane."<br />
With that, Sneaky Dan began a hurried move back to his vehicle, but I knew I had him. Where could he run? They said my order would arrive by 5:30pm. It was 5:44pm and I had time-stamped photos to prove it. I shot him one last time on the way out with a flash.<br />
"And you haven't brought any good coupons in like three weeks!"<br />
<i> "Fuck. You!"</i> He sped off into the night, but I knew when I brought this slip to the uppers at Cheesy Pete's he'd be busted down to topping boy. Truly, Sneaky Dan could not see the havoc had wrought upon humanity. I saw through the veil, pierced the heart of the beast, and brought the illumination in front of him. Of course those of sloth in darkness recoil from the light. But it was only I, Socrates Smith, who could show him and show us all the errors of selfish ways.BDJ, Whttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09862508618705453886noreply@blogger.com0